Love's Ultimatum
by B4C
Summary: Chuck and Blair have been divorced for 7 years...or so they thought. When she finds out they are still married Blair hatches a plan to conceive Chuck's baby through a donation he made on a dare. AU after highschool.
1. Prologue

Prologue

"What do you mean I'm still married?" Blair Waldorf struggled to keep the hysteria out of her voice as she stared aghast at her attorney.

Unflappable as usually, the older gentlemen sat back in his chair. "Apparently your husband never filed the papers."

"But we've been separated seven years. How could this happen?"

"Failure to file is not as uncommon as you might think, Blair. But if you want to know the real reason, then you'll have to call Charles and ask him. Or let me do it."

The pain of failure, of love gone so horribly wrong, still hurt. She'd loved Chuck with every fibre of her being. But in the end her love hadn't been enough. "No I don't want to call him."

"Let's look at the big picture. You're entitled to half Charles' assets when they file again, and those assets are considerably more now than they were then."

"I'm not any more interested in Chuck's money now than I was then, I want nothing from him."

The quick flattening of her lawyers lips told her the news didn't make him happy, and no doubt she'd hear more about the subject. "I understand that you want a quick, clean break, but remember, New York is a community property state. You could get more since you didn't have a prenuptial agreement."

Another wave of worry rippled over her. "Does that mean he could also get half of my business? I've worked too hard to make 'Blair Waldorf Designs' a success to give it away."

"I won't let you lose BWD. But let's revisit what brought you here today. You can change your last name regardless of your marital status."

"My name is the least of my worries right now." Her plan to take control of her life had seemed so simple, beginning with taking back her maiden name, then starting the family she'd always wanted. But Chuck had refused to...

Her touts skidded to a halt as an elusive memory teased her. Grasping the arms of the cool leather chair, she struggled to recall the details of the story he'd confessed over too much champagne on their honeymoon, and slowly fell into place.

Hope flickered to life inside her. She'd been aching for a baby, and when she'd turned thirty two last month she'd decided to take matters into her own hands and quit waiting for the mythical Mr. Right to appear. Like the heroines of some of her favourite romantic movies, she'd decided to take things into her own hands, to get artificially inseminated via a reputable sperm bank.

She'd been reading donor profiles for weeks, but had never expected to find a donor she'd known - and once loved. She knew how many unanswered questions - some important, some not - she and her child would face down the road if she went through with her plan.

"Blair, are you all right?"

"I I'm fine." Swallowing to ease her dry mouth, Blair studied the wizened face of the man on the opposite side of the desk. "You said I'm entitled to half of everything Chuck's?"

"Yes"

Her heart raced with excitement. She struggled to regulate her quickened breaths. The idea of having Chuck's baby without his consent was ludicrous and even sneaky. It certainly wasn't the nicest thing she could do, but she desperately wanted a child, and she would never ask him for support. He'd probably forgotten about that stupid dare, anyway.

She wiped her damp palms on her pant legs. "Wile Chuck was younger he made a deposit at a sperm bank on a dare. He said he asked them to hold it for 'future use.' If the sperm bank still has his...stuff, can I have it? Or at least half of it?"

Kudos to her lawyer for not showing surprise by so much as a twitch of an eyelash. "I don't see any reason we can't pursue that option."

"Than that's what I want. I want to have Chuck's baby. And then as soon as I've conceived, I'll want a divorce."

A/N : I originally started this story on my secondary account but will be reporting and finishing here.


	2. Chapter 1

The pencil snapped in Chuck's fingers Monday morning. Ledgers forgotten, he rose with the phone still pressed to his ear and walked around his desk to close his office door. He leaned against it. No one on the sixth floor of Bass industries needed to hear what he thought the women on the other end of the line had just said or his reply to her statement.

"I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?"

"I'm Lauren from Manhattan Fertility Clinic. Your wife has asked to be inseminated with your sperm," a cheerful female voice enunciated precisely as if he was an idiot. At the moment he felt like one.

His wife? He didn't have a wife. Not anymore. A familiar hollowness settled in his chest.

"Do you mean Blair?"

"Yes, Mr. Bass. She is asking for your sample."

Head reeling, he tried to break down this crazy conversation and make sense of it. First, why would Blair try to pass herself off as his wife when they'd been apart seven years? She'd been the one to file for devoice the minute the one year waiting period had passed. And second, there was the donation he'd made a on stupid dare from his friend Nate, years ago. Linking the two separate incidents boggled his mind.

"My 'sample' is ten years old. I thought you would have disposed of it by now."

"No, sir. It's still viable. Semen, if properly stored, can last beyond fifty years. But you did stipulate that your specimen not be used without your written consent. I'll need you to sign a form to release it to your wife."

She's not my wife. But he kept the rebuttal to himself. His company dealt with some extremely conservative clients. He had worked had to change his image over the years. One whiff of this story getting out and he could lose business - not something Bass industries could afford in these hard economic times.

He scanned the office - the last happy project he and his ex-wife had completed together. He and Blair had chosen the glass desk, the pair of cream leather sofas and the profusion of plants. Plants he'd managed not to kill - unlike his marriage. He and Blair had been a good team.

Had been. Past tense.

He intended to get to the bottom of this fiasco, but one thing was certain. Nobody was getting his frozen, ten year old sperm.

"Destroy the sample."

"I'll need your written consent for that , too," the faceless voice quipped back.

"Fax over the form. I'll sign it and fax it back."

"Give me your numbers and I'll get it right to you."

Chuck's mind raced as he gave the numbers by rote. He tried to recall the awful months surrounding Blair moving out, but much of it was a blur. He'd lost his hotel, his place as Bass industries CEO and his wife all within six months. A year after Blair had moved out he had received the divorce papers, reopening an unhealed wound. The old anger returned - anger toward Blair for giving up on them so easily and toward himself for allowing it to happen. He detested failure. None more then his own.

The fax machine in the corner beeped, signaling an incoming letter. He checked the letterhead. "It's here. I'll return it before the ink dries."

After ending the call, he whipped the sheets off the machine, read, signed, and then faxed them back.

His last memory of the divorce papers was of his brother promising to mail them after they'd sat on Chuck's desk for a month because Chuck hadn't had the heart to mail them and break the final link with Blair. What had happened to the documents after Eric took them?

The back of Chuck's neck prickled . Wait a minute. He didn't remember receiving a copy of the divorce decree. Hadn't his mother said something about getting an official notification in the mail?

He was divorced, wasn't he? But if so why would Blair lie to the clinic?

Lead settled in is gut. Blair had never been a liar. He reached for the phone to call his lawyer, but stopped. Todd would have to track down information and call back, and Chuck had never been good at sitting and waiting.

Eric was closer.

Chuck yanked open his door so quickly he startled his PA. "Joan, I'll be in Eric's office."

"Do you want me to call and see if he's free?"

"No. He'll make time for this." He'd damned well better make time.

Chuck's feet pounded on the black oak floors as he strode down the hall to the opposite side of the sixth floor and Eric's west corner office. He nodded to his brother's executive assistant, but didn't slow down as he passed her desk. Ignoring her squeak of protest, he barged into Eric's office without knocking.

His brother, with the phone to his ear, looked up in surprise, then held up his finger. Chuck shook his head and made an x with his forearms in the universal 'shut down' signal, then closed the door. Eric wrapped up his conversation.

"Problem?" he asked after he'd cradled the receiver.

"What did you do with y divorce papers?"

Eric jerked back in his chair. Surprise filled eyes that turned into wariness.

Chuck's gut clenched. "You did mail them, didn't you, Eric?"

Eric rose, exhaling a slow breath. He unlocked and opened a file cabinet drawer, then withdrew a sheaf of papers and swore under his breath. "No."

Shock rattled Chuck to the soles of his feet. "What?"

"I forgot."

His heart hammered in his chest and in his ears. "You forgot? How is that possible?"

Clutching the back of his neck, Eric grimaced. "I stalled initially because you were so broken up over losing Blair that I hoped once you two calmed down you'd resolve whatever issue drove you apart. Like you always had before."

Chuck's legs went weak. Flabbergasted, he sank into a leather chair and dropped his head in his hands.

Married. He was still married. To Blair.

A confusing swirl of responses swept through him. Tamping them down , he focused on the facts.

If Blair was passing herself off as his wife, then she must have known they weren't divorced. The question was, how long had she known, and why hadn't she called and chewed him out for not mailing the forms, or at the very least, set Serena on him?

"Chuck, are you ok?"

Hell no.

"Of course." he answered automatically. He'd never been one to share his problems. He wasn't going to start now.

As his shock slowly subsided, a completely different emotion took its place. Hope. No, it was more than that. Elation filled him like helium, making him feel weightless.

He and Blair weren't divorced.

After years of silence, he had a reason to contact her. A reason besides finding out why she'd tried to pull a fast on with his sperm. But for now it was enough to know they weren't divorced and she wanted to have his baby.

The surreal feeling left him reeling, "I'll call my lawyer and find out where I stand. I'm going to take a few days off."

"You? You never take time off. But as much as I hate to say it, now is not a good time."

"I don't care. The situation has to be dealt with. Now."

"I guess you're right. Again I apologize. If you'd ever demonstrated any real interest in another women, maybe it would have tripped my memory. Maybe not. It's a lousy excuse, but there it is. What brought on this sudden interest in your divorce? Serena didn't mention anything about Blair meeting someone new.

Chuck flinched. Logically, he knew Blair had probably dated since their separation, as had he, but the idea of her with other men filled him with a possessiveness that should have died long ago. He rose to his feet and took the document that should have ended his marriage and made an instant decision not to share the sperm news. His family was better off not knowing. If only to keep Serena from giving Blair a head start.

"I don't know Blair's plans. I haven't seen her in years." She'd wanted it that way. But now he would see her. His pulse accelerated at the prospect. He returned to his office and crossed straight to the shredder. Through the window above the machine, the sun glowed just above the roof lines in the distance. The symbolism of a new day and a new beginning didn't escape him. Losing Blair had been the biggest regret of his life. His younger brother's negligence had given Chuck the perfect opportunity to see if the attraction was still there and if so to win her back.

He fed the papers through the slot one page at a time, enjoying the whine and grind of the machine turning his biggest failure into crosscut paper fragments. When he finished he felt like celebrating. Instead, he sat down at his computer.

He needed to locate his wife.


	3. Chapter 2

Love's Ultimatum.

Chapter Three

BASS1

The limo's license plate snagged Blair's attention as she approached her 5th avenue building. She almost clipped the doorman with her shopping bags and quickly jerked left to avoid walking into the door.

BASS1 equaled Chuck Bass. Her stomach churned like a dough mixer as she watched her ex - her husband - climb from the car.

Ever since she'd heard the clinic's message on her voicemail informing her that her request for Chuck's sperm had been denied, she'd known it was only a matter of time before he came looking for her. The clinic must have contacted him. Her attorney had warned her of the possibility.

But nothing could prepare her for Chuck looming over her before she could even make it to the elevators. Heart racing and her mouth going dry, she fought to appear calm, and stepped into the lift.

Dreading the conversation ahead, she tipped back her head to look up at the man she'd once loved with all her heart. The man who'd broken her.

Chuck had changed. And yet he hadn't. His eyes were still impossibly deep and his hair inky dark, but somehow thinner. His shoulders were as broad as she remembered and even with him wearing his suit, she could tell he hadn't added any fat to his lean torso. If anything, his jaw looked more chiseled.

But the past seven years had been hard on him. There were grooves beside the mouth she'd once loved to kiss, and new horizontal lines fanning from his eyes, although he used to smile often during the early days of their relationship, before he'd taking over Bass industries.

"Hello, Chuck."

"Blair. Or should I say Mrs. Bass?" His deep gravelly tone filled her tummy with the sensation of scattering butterflies. "How long have you known?"

She could have played dumb, but didn't see the point. "That we weren't devoiced? Only a few weeks."

"And you didn't call me."

"Like you didn't call me when you decided not to file the papers?"

He frowned at the snippy tone. "There's more to it then that."

"Enlighten me." And then she remembered that they were still in the elevator. "But you will have to finish this riveting story inside. I don't want the neighbored knowing my business."

His hip and shoulder bumped hers as he nudged past her to take her shopping bags. Her senses went wild over the contact. The way they used to. Damn it. Her reaction didn't mean anything. She was over him. Well and truly over him he'd ripped out her heart piece by piece before she'd left him. No feelings remained other then regret and disappointment.

"Get the door," he ordered.

His words shocked her into motion. He hadn't been here since the early days of their short marriage when this had been her mother's apartment. Blair had made a lot of changes since then as she'd turned the museum like penthouse into an inviting home.

They walked through the foyer and he followed her past the spiral staircase and living room to the kitchen.

"Where do you want these? Chuck asked.

"On the floor, I'll have Dorota deal with it." As soon as he set it down, she transferred her gaze and let loose.

"So…..What's so complicated about slapping a stamp on the envelope containing the divorce paperwork?"

"Eric thought he was doing us a favor by giving us cool-down time. He put the papers in a file cabinet."

"For six years?"

"They'd probably still be in the drawer if you hadn't tried to get my sperm." Eyes narrowing, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms and ankles. "So you still want to have a baby."

His speculative tone put her on guard. "I want to have a baby. You just happened to be a donor I knew."

"And you planned to have my child without informing me?"

She grimaced. "Probably not one of my best decisions. But after going through page after page of other potential donors, I had too many unanswered questions. But now that you've refused I'll go back to my anonymous candidates."

His unblinking gaze held hers. "Not necessarily."

"What do you mean?"

"Blair, I always wanted you to have my baby."

"Not true. Don't you remember the false alarm during high school?"

"The timing was wrong. We weren't even together. And then as we got older I was trying to adjust to a new job."

"A job you hated. One that made you miserable."

"My father left me the responsibility, Bass Industries needed me."

"So did I, Chuck." She hated the telling cracks in her voice, but the sadness of watching their love unravel hit her all over again, making her throat tighten. "I needed the man I fell in love with, the one I married. I was more then willing to help you deal with your grief over losing your father. But I couldn't stand by and watch that job destroy you. You gave up everything, became a different person and in the process you became a silent, uncommunicative stranger. We didn't talk. We didn't make love. You were barely ever home."

"I was working, not cheating on you."

"Watching our love die was more then I could bear."

"When did it die?'

"You tell me." when she'd caught herself turning to alcohol to dull the pain of her unhappiness, she'd known that no matter how much she loved him she'd end up just like her bitter, unhappy mother if she didn't get out.

"I loved you right up until the day you left me. We could have made it work, Blair, if you'd given us a chance."

"I don't think so. Not as long as you where in that depression." She tried to shake off the bad memories. "I'll have my attorney draw up another set of divorce papers. Like last time, I want nothing from you."

"Except my child."

Another dream dead. They'd once planned to have a family - at least two children, maybe three, because they had both hated growing up as only children. "Like I said I will go back to donors."

"You don't have to."

Her heartbeat blipped out of rhythm. What are you saying?"

"You can have my baby."

She forced a breath into her tight chest. "The clinic said your sample had been destroyed. Are you planning to make another donation?"

"I'm not talking about frozen sperm or artificial insemination."

Her tongue felt dry as parchment paper. "Then what are you suggesting, Chuck?"

"I'll give you my baby - the usual way?"

Stunned by the idea of making love with Chuck again, she staggered backward into the counter. But an undeniable wisp of desire snaked through her. They'd been so good together. She'd experienced nothing remotely close to that level of fulfillment since Chuck. But she couldn't risk it.

"No. That isn't an option. I didn't do casual sex before and I'm not going to start now."

"It's not casual sex when we're still married."

Tempting and dangerous. "Why would you agree to that?"

"I'm almost thirty. It's time to think about kids."

Alarm ripped through her. "I'm not looking for someone to be a part of my child's life."

"You business takes up what? Fifty, sixty hours a week? Plus fashion week her and in Paris. When do you plan on having time to be a parent?"

Had he been checking up on her? "I'll make time."

"Like Eleanor did?"

She winced as the barb hit deep. "That's low - even for you, Chuck."

Her mother had worked long hours as her designs, traveling overseas frequently. That left little Blair to be raised by her believed nanny Dorota.

"It will be easier to raise a child with two parents and better for the child. It's also a good backup plan in case something happens to either of us."

Horrified by the implication, she backed away. "We might still be married, but we're not staying that way."

"I want to share every aspect of the pregnancy and delivery and be apart of the baby's first year. After that we can go our separate ways - other then sharing custody. We'll keep the option open for our child to have the siblings we never had."

"More children? Are you crazy?" But what he said appealed on so many levels. Too many levels.

"I want to be a father, Blair. I want a family."

"Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"I Could ask you the same question. No men in the picture?"

"I'm not seeing anyone." She'd be insane to risk her heart and health again. Shaking her head, she paced to the opposite side of the kitchen. "Thanks for your generous offer, but I'll stick with my donor list."

"You'd rather depend on a questionnaire that's probably no more truthful than a personal ad?"

Another direct hit. She had wondered how factual the donor data might be. "I'll choose carefully."

"Think about it, Blair. The plans we made. The house in the Hamtons we brought together. Your baby could have it all."

Her heart squeezed. "You still have the Hampton house?"

"Yes."

They'd spent the first six months of their marriage trying to find the perfect vacation home. Blair spent the second six months alone trying to figure out how to save her dying marriage.. In the end all she could do was save herself.

"Chuck, it's a crazy idea."

"So was us being together behind Nate's back. But it worked."

"For a while. And you are still running Bass Industries. Nothing has changed."

"The company is under control now. It doesn't consume me like it used to . Move in with me. Let's make a baby, Blair."

She gaped at him. "Move in with you?"

"Have my child. Allow me to spend the baby's first year under the same roof, and then I'll give you an incontested divorce and pay full child support."

A tiny, sentimental part of her wanted to agree. Blair had always believed Chuck would make a wonderful father - the kind she wanted for her children. She's experienced firsthand how patient and encouraging he could be during her first year of collage. But letting him back into her life was scary and risky.

She had to be crazy, because she was actually considering his suggestion. But maybe…just maybe this insane idea could work. Focus on the result. A baby. Someone to love and come home to each night. But if she was going to keep her head and her sanity, she needed to lay ground rules.

"Chuck, hooking up just to have a baby is crazy."

"It could work - for both of us."

"If I agree to this, then I'll want to choose our apartment."

"I'll get someone to help you"

She rubbed her hands together. Her heart pounded wildly out of rhythm. She gulped, trying to ease the knot in her throat. Okay, I'll consider it, but I have a few conditions."

Victory flared in his eyes, giving her a moment's panic. "Name them."

"We need time to get to know each other again and make sure this crazy scheme can work before jumping back into bed together."

"How much time?"

"I don't know. A month, I guess. That should be long enough to determine whether or not we're still compatible."

"Agreed."

"If it's not working, then either of us can back out and you will sign the divorce papers."

He dipped his chin, "I'll sign."

The sense of panic squeezed tighter, as if she was drowning and desperate for air. Was she crazy to plan on bringing a baby into a broken marriage? Her baby would know from day one that it was wanted, planned, not a mistake that derailed her life.

"I-I want my own bedroom. We'll get together….when it's time…if we decide to go through with the plan."

The creases in his forehead deepened. "If you insist."

"I do." she smothered a wince at the words she'd spoken so many years ago. Back then her heart and head had been filled with happiness, dreams and possibilities, instead of a stomach-twisting fear that she was making a huge mistake.

"Anything else?"

She searched her brain for more protective barriers to build, but her thoughts churned so chaotically she could barely think. "Not at the moment. But I reserve the right to revisit this later, if need be."

"I accept your terms and have a few of my own"

She stiffened. "Let's hear them."

"I want to keep the real reason for our living together between us. It is critical that our family, friends and business associates believe we are trying to reconcile rater than temporarily hook up to make a baby."

Could she fake that kind of happiness? For a baby she could do almost anything. "I guess that would be better in the long run - especially if there is a child."

"Then we have a deal?"

Doubts swirled through her like fruit pureeing in the blender.

She nodded and extended her hand. Chuck's long fingers encircled hers. He simultaneously tugged and stepped forward, then covered her mouth with his.

Shock crashed over her like a waterfall as his warm, firm lips moved against hers. Familiar sensations deluged her, sweeping her back into a current of desire and far out of her depth. Even though he was six feet and she was barely five foot five, they'd always fit together like perfect cut puzzle pieces. His thigh spliced between hers, his strong arms enfolded her, tucking her into his chest. It felt as if she had never left his arms, and she was right back where she was supposed to be.

Horrified, she broke the kiss and shoved against his chest. Gasping for air, she backed away, but she couldn't deny the turbulent flood of hunger slicing through her.

"What was that about?"

"Sealing the deal."

"Don't do it again."

"I'm not allowed to touch you?"

"No. Not until…it's time."

"Blair, to make our reconciliation look real, we're going to have to touch and kiss and act like we're in love."

"I'm a designer, not an actress."

He dragged a knuckle down her cheek and over the pulse hammering in her neck, then along the neckline of her top. She shivered and her nipples tightened.

"Let your body do the talking. You still want me and it shows."

She gasped at his audacity. Unfortunately, he told the truth. Her reaction to a simple kiss told her she still wanted her husband. And wanting Chuck was the worst possible thing that could happen.

If she wasn't careful, Chuck Cass would break her heart all over again or worse, drive her to self-destruction. And then she'd be no good for anyone - especially her child.


	4. Chapter 3

Love's Ultimatum - Chapter Four

Authors note: Thank you for all your lovely reviews. This is just a very short chapter to tide you over. Xoxo

_There's no place like home._

But this wasn't her home, no matter how it felt. Blair reminded herself Friday evening. A knot of apprehension formed in her stomach as she stared up at the tall , upper east side brownstone.

The dark oak front door with it's oval, stained glass insert opened and Chuck stepped onto the stoup. In a navy blue suit, he looked so much like the man she'd fallen in love with years ago.

But that love had died. Painfully. And it wasn't coming back. She wouldn't let it.

A volatile cocktail of emotions churned inside her as he jogged down the steps toward her, then stopped on the pavement a foot away. "I'll take these bags. You grab the rest of your stuff."

Her gaze dropped briefly and involuntarily to his lips before she ripped it away. "That's all I brought."

She'd only brought the minimal requirements. She was only a visitor here, and she didn't want Chuck - or herself - to get the wrong idea that this was anything more then a temporary residence. "I can have Dorota bring anything thing else I need."

He didn't look pleased, but he didn't argue. His fingers covered hers on the handles of her small suitcases, sending sparks shooting up her arm. He stood too close and he smelled too good and too familiar.

Memories of happier times pushed their way forward. She battled them back, released her luggage and moved a safer distance away.

He carried her bags up the steps and she followed him pausing on the top step to turn and look at the view. Other restored brownstones lined the street, to her left she could see Central Park and the steps of the Met.

"Come in, Blair."

Dread slowed her reaction time. Turning her back on the street, she stepped into the foyer. The warm, rich, jewel-tone colors they'd chosen welcomed her exactly as she had planned. Dorota had even arranged the flowers she loved.

Gleaming hardwood floors stretched in every direction. The staircase with it's delicately carved ivory-painted spindles rose up the side wall from the center of the foyer. The formal parlor took up the front left corner of the first floor and the dining area the right.

She pulled her thoughts back to the present. "Have they finished the third floor yet?"

"They are in progress two children's rooms and a playroom."

The house had been in near perfect condition when Blair found it, but she need to add her own touch.

He climbed the stairs. "You have your choice of bedrooms - the guest or the master?"

"I'll take the front with the balcony." The one with the big bed and the master bath with the claw footed tub.

He carried her luggage into the master bedroom and set in on the bed. "You know where everything is. Help yourself."

"Thank you," she said as stiffly as if she was a stranger, instead of the one who'd chosen the décor of this room - right down to the light purple quilt on the bed and the rug under her feet.

"When you're settled in we'll go for dinner at Gianelli's"

Memories of the quaint Italian restaurant lambasted her. "Don't even think of trying to act like everything is the same, Chuck. It isn't.

"Those who know us will expect us to celebrate our reconciliation."

Unfortunately, Chuck was right. To make this look real she was going to have to face the demons from her past.

"Our pretend reconciliation," she corrected.

He inclined his head.

Resignation settled over her like a cold, wet table cloth. The charade was going to force her into places she didn't want to go.

"Give me thirty minutes." Maybe by then she'd find the courage to do what she had to do.


	5. Chapter 4

Love's Ultimatum

Chuck loved a good plan and thus far hi was coming together nicely. Blair was home. She wasn't in his bed yet. But she would be. Soon.

He laced his fingers through hers as they strolled to the restaurant they way they had done so many times before. She startled and tried to pull away, stumbling over an expansion joint in the sidewalk in the process. He tightened his grip, halting her fall and pulling her closer to his side.

Her wide, dark eyes found his. "What are you doing?"

"Holding your hand. You can tolerate that for appearances' sake, can't you?" Having her close felt good.

"I guess so."

He inhaled, letting her familiar perfume wash over him. He wanted to tangle his hands in her long, chocolate curls and kiss her until she melted against him like she used to, but that would have to wait until she was more receptive. The initial kiss had answered his primary question. The chemistry between them hadn't faded, and as long as they had chemistry to work with, he had a good chance of fixing what he'd broken.

He could feel Blair's tension through her fingers and sought a way to distract her. "I've got an idea of what to do with the basement"

Her beautiful, dark gaze flickered his way. "And?"

"There are a few prospects, but everything depends on what you think."

Genuine interest brightened her face. "What did you decide to do with it?"

"That will have to wait until we get home."

"Tease," she said with a smile that faded almost instantly.

She no doubt remembered the occasions when she'd used the same word in the past - times when he'd aroused the hell out of her but delayed her pleasure repeatedly until she'd begged for mercy.

His skin flushed with heat and his groin grew heavy. He focused on what he planned to show her after dinner.

Having the plans drawn up for her new home workspace had filled him with energy and excitement he hadn't experienced in a ling time. He'd wanted to share them with her earlier. But first he needed to ply her with good food, good wine and good memories to make her more receptive.

He opened the restaurant's heavy wooden door, and lead them in. The women behind the hostess stand nodded in greeting. "Mr. and Mrs. Bass, I have your table right this way."

He followed the women to the back corner, taking the time to admire his wife's petite shape from behind Blair had gained a little weight since their split, but it had landed in all the right places, and her white wrap around sweater and grey trousers that accentuated her figure awakened his libido in a way no other women had been able to do since Blair had left him.

The hostess departed and Blair opened her menu. He didn't know why she was wasting her time unless hiding behind the menu was her way of avoiding him. She'd ordered the same dish each time they'd eaten here in the past, claiming that no one made spinach manicotti as well.

"Aren't you ordering your usual?"

"I want to try the chicken romano. She replied without looking at him.

"That's a change."

She peered at him over the menu, her gaze serious. "I've changed, Chuck. I'm not the same person anymore."

Was there a warning in her tone? "Everybody changes, Blair, but fundamentals that make us who we are remain the same."

The waitress arrived to take their order. After she left, Chuck lifted his water glass. "To us and our future family."

Blair hesitated, then raised hers. "To the baby we might make."

He noted the way she stressed 'might,' but let it pass, and reached across the table to capture her free hand. She stiffened. "Is this really necessary?"

'We always held hands while we waited for our food in the past."

Her fingers remind stiff in his. "Why is it so important that everyone believe we're a happy couple?"

Not the relaxing conversation he'd planned, but she needed to know the facts. He stroked his thumb across her palm. "The tight economy is pinching even the largest real estate companies. Our closest rival, Goldbloom Industrie, is encroaching on our turf and not above using underhanded methods to steal our accounts."

"For example?"

"Reed Dreasher, the CEO, will do anything to make us look unstable, immoral or untrustworthy."

"How can he do that?"

"Gossip. Innuendo. We don't know where he's getting his information, but it's almost as if he has an inside source. Some of our biggest clients are ultraconservative. They'll go elsewhere at the first hint of scandal because they can't afford to have their names attached to anyone who might cause them to lose business and revenue. That's why the truth behind our personal project needs to be kept confidential."

"That's like living in a glass house, Chuck. You Can't keep it up indefinitely."

"Dreasher is seventy. He won't live forever. But enough about my work."

"I like hearing about your work. You never used to discuss it…well, not after you became CEO."

"I had enough of work during the day. I didn't want to rehash it at night." But she had a point. When he'd bought Victrola he'd been so excited about his work that he'd often recounted the highlights of his day as they lay in bed a night.

He'd had a lot of time to think about the demise of their marriage, and he'd concluded his first mistake had been asking Blair to focus full time on their marriage. Blair was a planner and was no stranger to the business world he worked in. She'd practically been raised at cocktail parties. At fourteen when other children were shopping at the mall, Blair had been working the room, making contacts and building her social graces.

He'd asked himself a million time if they would still be married if he'd let her in to his business world. But he'd refused, brushed her aside. The past couldn't be undone. The only thing he could do was learn from his mistakes and move on. And this time, he didn't intend to let her go.


	6. Chapter 5

It would be far to easy to forget this reconciliation wasn't real, Blair decided as Chuck let her into the front door of their - his house.

During dinner he had been attentive, witty and conversational - just as he'd been during the beginning of their relationship. But he'd changed once and he could again, she reminded herself. Besides, he wasn't the real problem. She was.

"I have your keys," he said so close to her ear that his breath stirred her hair.

Awareness shivered over her. Uh-oh. She put a yard of space between them in the foyer. "You said you'd show me your ideas for the basement."

"They're in my study along with the keys. Go on in. I'll join you in a moment." he headed toward the kitchen. Blair wandered down the hall to the room tucked beneath the stairs. Chuck's office smelled like him. She caught herself inhaling deeply and stopped. His desk took up most of the space beneath the bay window. Her gaze skidded to a halt on the framed photograph taken on their wedding day.

Melancholy thickened her throat, trapping her breath in her chest. She and Chuck looked so happy standing together arm in arm with their blinding smiles and love-filled eyes. But that had been before he had changed.

In that blissfully ignorant moment frozen in the photo, Blair hadn't had a clue how silent and lonely being married to the man she loved could be.

A pop startled her into spinning around. Chuck entered the room carrying a bottle of wine. He had two glasses pressed against his body in the crook of his arm.

She held up a hand. "None for me."

His brow pleated. He set the bottle and glasses on a side table. His strong hands worked the cork free from the corkscrew. "This used to be your favorite Riesling."

"I don't drink anymore, unless I have to sample something for work. Even then I sip and spit."

"You used to love wine."

She shrugged. "That was then."

"Did you quit because of your mothers drinking problem?"

He didn't know about the morning Blair had woken up on the sofa after drinking herself into oblivion while waiting for him to come home. And he never would.

"Partly. The basement?"

"In a minute." he recorked the wine and, still frowning settled behind his desk. He opened a drawer, withdrew a key ring and offered it to her. She remained frozen in place. Taking that set of keys would be another giant step forward, a blind leap of the edge of a cliff. Gathering her will, she took them from him. The cold metal bit into her hand as she closed her fist.

Next he opened a file folder and then slid it across the desk in her direction. Her pulse quickened as he flipped over a large sheet of blueprint paper reveling a page covered in sketches.

His gaze met hers and for the first time in ages the fire of excitement that had initially drawn her to him gleamed in the depths of his eyes. "Take a look."

A little leery of her body's breathless reaction to a glimpse of the old Chuck, she edged closer. He'd sketched out a design studio very similar to hers Paris, only larger and the space had more work surfaces. The layout also included an office area where she could work or meet with clients and a door that lead to the outside patio complete with tables and a fountain.

"This is beautiful, Chuck. Where is it?"

"Our basement."

Alarm sirens screeched in her head. "But….."

He held up one broad palm. "Hear me out. The basement has a separate entrance. You could work from home downstairs and have a nanny keep the baby upstairs. You'd be able to slip away to visit our child whenever you wanted."

Our basement. Our child. Her panic.

Her stomach fell faster than a soufflé. The words implied a long term commitment - one she wasn't prepared to make. "Investing that much money into a temporary workplace is not a good idea, Chuck."

"Who says it has to be temporary?"

"I do. We agreed to divorce after the baby's first year."

"Think about it, Blair. We really don't need to worry about the money and you know you'll want to be on top of your work and be as close to the baby as possible."

Not only was he right, he'd literally and figuratively drawn a tempting, almost irresistible picture.

She wanted to refuse, but she'd go crazy with nothing to do but wait for the sound of Chuck coming home. Having failed at that life already, she didn't dare risk it again - not even for a baby. Living vicariously through him and his job wasn't enough. She needed her own interests.

Unfortunately, what Chuck purposed was both the best and worst option out there, and working in the basement might be the only way. Was she strong enough to handle that kind of pressure? Last time she'd crumbled under the stress.

She looked down at the data Chuck had spread before her and then back at him. 'It's not that I don't appreciate this but I need time to think, and I'll get back to you."


	7. Chapter 6

Chuck hadn't lied.

With a mug of coffee in hand and a sense of doom weighing heavily on her shoulders, Blair stood in the cool basement Sunday morning studying the empty, unfinished space. Chuck's plans lay on the nearby worktable for reference.

She'd spent all day Saturday pondering the situation only to continually come back to Chuck's idea. But then she had always been able to trust Chuck's ideas. She was the one she had to worry about.

The stairs creaked behind her. She turned. Chuck's long legs came into view as he descended. Desire flickered to life inside her. She tried to snuff it out with little success.

His gaze raked her, making her self-conscious of her jeans and long-sleeved knit shirt. "Good morning, Blair."

"Good morning. Are you headed out?"

"Care to join me?"

She shook her head. He tapped his hip. "I have my cell phone if you need me. I left the number upstairs on the table." He nodded toward the blueprint. "Did you make a decision?"

She took a deep breath and then a sip of coffee, delaying the inevitable and maybe hoping for divine intervention in the form of a better idea. "You're right. Using the basement is the best option."

Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. He nodded. "I'll make the call to the contractor first thing in the morning. I know one I trust implicitly. Monday afternoon we'll go out and look at furnishing."

"Don't you have to work Monday?"

"I'll take the afternoon off. Come by the office after lunch and we'll leave from there."

That surprised her. He'd never taken time off from work before, and he certainly hadn't liked her popping in and interrupting his day.

"Look over the preliminary plans while I'm out and see if you want to make any changes." he crossed to the exterior door and opened it, letting in a cool rush of air. "I'll be back."

The door closed behind him, leaving her in silence - a reminder of the long, lonely days and nights she'd once spent while Chuck worked. She couldn't help but believe their marriage would have survived if he'd gone to collage, instead of becoming CEO at the family firm. But because his father had entrusted him, he was the only one considered for the job after his fathers death.

She shook her head. The loneliness she'd experienced back then wouldn't happen again. She wouldn't let allow it. She has her own business and interests, and her life and happiness would never again be completely wrapped up in Chuck.

She took the last sip of coffee, then rolled up the blueprints and climbed the stairs. In the past she would have called for Dorota to bring her breakfast. Instead she refilled her coffee cup and sat down with the paper.

The doorbell rang, breaking into her concentration. Had Chuck forgotten his key? She glanced at the clock. He'd only been gone forty minutes.

She rose and walked to the front door. The glass distorted the person on the other side, but not so much that she couldn't see the visitor was to petite to be Chuck. Who would visit so early?

Blair opened the door. Her sister in law stood on the doormat. "Hello, Serena."

Blond and thin to the point of ridiculousness for someone who had given birth to three children. Serena was a welcome surprise. "So it's true. You're back."

"Yes." One single word shouldn't be all they had to say to each other. While Blair was suffering alone, Serena was in LA planning the arrival of her and Dan's first baby. Blair had become angry with Serena's happiness while she was so sad and the two had fallen out.

Serena pushed herself through the door. "I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee."

Blair lead the way to the kitchen rather then the parlor where she would have entertained guest in the past. Without ceremony, she filled a mug, instead of good china, and brought it, the sugar and the milk jug to the table.

"Dorota has Sundays off."

Serena raised her eyebrows questionably. "Are you going to talk to me about this? Eric called me, I know what's going here."

Dismay and denial rippled through Blair in quick succession, surprising her. She had no right to be mad Serena and Eric were his family and he had the right to talk to them about anything.

"You won't change my mind about this baby, Serena."

Serena's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in calculation . "You're pregnant?"

"Well, no. Not yet. I thought you said Eric told you…."

"He told me you and Chuck reconciled because you were still legally married. I came here to make sure you were sure about this. I couldn't imagine how hard it would be for you if things didn't work out again. Wait, your trying for a baby?"

"A cauldron of toxic feelings bubbled in Blair's stomach. Anger, guilt, sadness. She had no idea how to go bout explaining this. She yearned to tell Serena the truth, to confided in her best friend again, but Bair bit her tongue. She'd promised to try and make the reconciliation look real.

Her fingernail's bit into her palms as she delivered the lie "Chuck and I are still in love and a child will complete our family."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. We're going to make you an aunty. Aunt Serena. How do you like that?"

Tears formed in Serena's eye. "We have always known that you and Chuck are meant to be. I'm so happy for you both and I can not wait to be Aunt Serena. You will both make wonderful parents."

She stared at her sister in law. This was the first time anyone had ever said that to her. "Thank you."

The women chatted over coffee, Serena filling her in on the gossip with the rest of the family. Jenny and Nate were engaged and living out in LA. Serena and Dan had moved back to New York last year WHEN Dan was offered a teaching position at NYU.

Something felt right about this for Blair. Being with her friends and family. This was what she wanted for her baby. Aunt's and Uncle's, cousins. Maybe she really was making the right decision.


	8. Chapter 7

The exterior of the twelve story building housing Bass Industries hadn't changed, but Blair's feelings about entering the building had undergone a drastic transition. The joy and anticipation she'd once experienced when meeting Chuck at work had turned to trepidation. Entering those doors meant entering a web of deception.

She neared the doors and her muscles tensed. Trendy restaurants and retail shops occupied the first floor. In the pass Bass Industries had occupied the second through tenth floors, and the top two floors had contained a penthouse suite with a roof garden. Who lived there now?

Blair entered the building and made her way to the elevators. A dark haired mescal man about her age held the doors open for her. Blair stepped in to the cubicle. "Ten, please."

He nodded and pushed the button. "Are you a client?"

"No." She hesitated, unsure who this guy was or what Chuck had told his coworkers and clients about her. But Chuck had said to make the marriage look real. "I'm Blair Bass, Charles's wife."

If her response surprised him, his gray eyes didn't show it. "Gavin Spencer. I'm an ad exec for Bass Industries. Mr. Bass is a nice guy."

'Yes. He is." She shook the hand he extended. "It's nice to meet you, Gavin."

The elevator shot up, then the doors opened. Gavin motioned for her to precede him. "Nice meeting you. Mrs. Bass."

She stepped out. A slim women with short brown hair sat behind the reception desk directly ahead of Blair. Swallowing the nervous lump in her throat, Blair scanned the area while she waited for the receptionist to end her phone call.

In the waiting room white sofas faced two monstrously large flat-panel TV's streaming advertisements. The stark white walls and acrylic tables combined with the black oak floors gave the place a contemporary edge. The other walls held extremely colorful modern paintings, some new to Blair, some not.

"May I help you?" the receptionist asked in a cheerfully chipper voice.

"I'm Blair Bass. I'm here to see Charles."

The women's eyes widened. "I'm Joan, Mrs. Bass, Mr. Bass told me to expect you. It's great to finally meet you."

"Thank you. You too, Joan. Should I head back or is he with someone?"

"He doesn't have an appointment, but I'll call and let him know you've arrived."

Before she could dial, an attractive auburn - haired pregnant women approached from the office section. The receptionist perked up. "Lauren, this is Mrs. Bass," she blurted as if she couldn't contain the news.

Smiling, the newcomer stopped. "Hello, Mrs. Bass"

"Please call me Blair"

"Well, hello Blair, I'm Lauren, Jason's wife."

Blair scanned her memory and came up empty. "Jason? I'm sorry you'll have to forgive me I haven't been in her in…a long time. I've been busy with my company. So I'm a little out of the loop."

"Jason in a VP. We'll have to get together sometime and do lunch."

Lauren seemed warm and friendly and Blair could use a few friends in the area. She had no intention of repeating her past mistakes of isolating herself. Also , an insider could give her an idea of what Chuck's life was like now. "I 'd like that."

"Good. How can I reach you?"

Blair dug into her purse for a business card and passed it over. "I look forward to your call."

Lauren ducked into the open elevator and the doors closed. The receptionist seemed to be hanging on their every word and then startled as if she's suddenly remembered she was supposed to be calling Chuck. "I'll let Mr. Bass know you've arrived."

"Don't bother. I'll just go back." Blair's heels tapped on the wood floors as she made her way to the east corner office as she'd done as many times before.

This time her pulse raced with nervousness instead of excitement. If Chuck had changed offices, this would be embarrassing.

The chair behind his PA's desk was empty, but Joan's name plate on the desk told her at least Chuck's assistant hadn't changed. Joan had been with him since his first day at Bass Industries and Blair had always liked her.

Chuck's door stood open. But Chuck wasn't alone. A women with long red hair had her arms around his neck.

Shock stopped Blair in the outer office. She struggled to inhale, but her tight chest resisted.

_You're not jealous. Oh, yes, you are._

_And that did not bode well for her mental health or temporary nature of this assignment._


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Nine

Was Chuck involved with another woman?

Blair's throat tightened. Could she stand knowing that while he held her, made love to her and impregnated her, he was thinking of someone else?

The women backed away from Chuck and bent to scoop a file folder from the visitor chair. "Thank you again, Chuck. I'll keep you abreast of the project."

"Do that. You'll need to run the proposal by Eric before pitching it." Chuck glanced up and caught sight of Blair. Her expression must have given away her chaotic thoughts. His gaze sharpened on her face.

Smiling tightly, Chuck came around his desk, took Blair in his arms and kissed her without warning. She stiffened automatically as his hot body pressed against hers, and his warm, firm lips moved over her mouth. Conscious of their audience, she had to fight to relax and look as if this was a regular occurrence.

Getting used to being touched by him again was going to take some work. Not that she didn't enjoy his kisses and caresses. She did. Too much. Even now, despite the other women in the office, desire curled in Blair's belly and her pulse fluttered wildly. But she had to hold herself in check. She couldn't let herself crave him or surrender to him the way she once had.

Chuck eased back and turned her toward the women. "Celia, I'd like you to meet my wife, Blair. Blair, this is Celia Taylor, one of our ad execs."

The beautiful redhead grimaced. "Sorry about the hug, but he just let me take on a very big client. I got a little excited."

Celia's words and contrite expression seemed genuine. And what Blair had seen after the hug had looked innocent enough. There had been no lingering body or eye contact. Tension leeched from her knotted muscles.

"Nice to meet you, Celia."

"Nice meeting you, too, Blair. Now, thanks to your husband, I have a lot of work to do, and trust me, that is not a complaint. Excuse me." She left, the quick tap of her heels receding down the hall.

Blair looked everywhere but at Chuck while she grappled with the strength of the emotions that had hit her when she'd spotted him in another women's arms. No matter how much she might want to deny it, she had been jealous. That was not good.

The office looked exactly as it had seven years ago - right down to the photograph of the two of them on the shelf and the remains of a half-eaten lunch on his desk.

Back then she'd brought him meals time and time again because he often forgot to eat, and in a matter of a few months he'd dropped a lot of weight despite her TLC.

Chuck looked her up and down, making her heart skip. "You're right on time, and you look great."

"Thanks." she brushed a hand over her light, garnet-red, cowl-neck sweater and simple black trousers. "You have several new staff members. I met Gavin in the elevator and Lisa in the lobby and Lauren on the way in. I forgot who she said she was married to, but it was someone I don't know. She suggested we have lunch together soon."

"She's married to Jason Reagert, another ad exec. You'll meet him later. But Lauren is a good contact. She can probably recommended a good obstetrician since she's pregnant."

Panic skipped down Blair's spine. She wanted a baby. She even wanted Chuck's baby. But tying herself to a man who made her weak still scared her more than a little - especially given her emotional reaction moments ago. Was she strong enough to endure a temporary marriage and a permanent link through a child without breaking and turning to alcohol again? "I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll have to join us next time the office staff goes out after work to meet everyone else."

"What did you tell them about me…about us?"

"That we worked out our differences and our trial separation was over."

Her gaze flicked to the photo. "Have you had that sitting there the whole time.?"

He frowned. "No. I dug it out of storage when you agreed to move back in."

For some reason that seemed like the perfect answer to sooth her rattled nerves. He hadn't been pining for her, but he hadn't thrown away the picture. She still had the box of mementos from her marriage that she hadn't been able to part with, either. As much as she'd wanted to put Chuck out of her mind, she hadn't been successful.

_If you haven't succeeded in forgetting him in seven years, will you ever?_

_The nagging voice in the back of her head didn't ease her worry that this entire plot could blow up in her face._


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Ten

_Warning: Adult content follows._

_Blair's head spun with combinations of paint samples and fabric swatches, cabinet configurations and countertop surfaces as she shoved the key into her front door Monday evening. Just like old times. And it felt good. Eerily good._

_She'd forgotten what an effective team she and Chuck made, but today, watching his sharp mind work and his eyes gleam with intelligence and excitement as they discussed the basement conversion._

"_Do you want to eat in the dinning room or should I have it set up in the den in front of a movie?" he asked from behind her._

_Another flashback. In fact, the past has hung over her head like a rain cloud the entire day. Déjà vu moments had unexpectedly spattered down on her. Some like big, fat, warm droplets and others like icy cold drizzle. There had been no escaping the deluge of memories._

_In the early days of their marriage they had ended many a day by having dinner served in the den while an old movie played in the tv. Sometimes they'd even watched an entire film before climbing all over each other. But most of the time they'd missed the last half of the movie because they were too absorbed in making love to hear it playing in the background._

_Her skin flushed and her hands trembled as she dropped her keys into her purse. "Dinning room."_

_His gaze held hers and his pupils expanded, telling her he remembered, too. Her chest tightened. She couldn't get enough air into her lungs and had to open her mouth to breath. "Chuck, don't."_

_He moved closer, then lifted his hand and cupped her face. "Don't what? Tell you that I want you? That I can't stop thinking about losing myself in the softness of your skin and the scent of your body, in the heat of you?"_

_A shiver of desire rippled over her._

"_Don't tell you that I've barely slept for the last three nights because I've lain awake listening for sounds of you moving around our house?"_

_She'd done the same, listened for him._

"_Your house," she corrected automatically._

"_Our house. Your touch is in every room, Blair."_

_She told herself to back away, but her legs refused to move. "I'm not ready, Chuck, and I'm still not convinced this is a good idea."_

"_It's a good plan. A baby. Our baby. Us doing what we do best. Making a home. Making love."_

_The husky pitch of the last phrase increased her desire. But her defenses were too weak to give in now. Before they did this, she had to find a way to make this about sex and procreation, instead of making love. Gathering every ounce of strength she possessed, she ducked out of reach and hurried into the dinning room._

_The staff had prepared a large, elegant meal. But her appetite had taken a vacation._

"_For this to work you have to want it, too, Blair."_

"_I do. I mean, I will. But not yet." She had to change the subject because she was very, very close to giving in, and that could be the death of her - literally. "I'd like to keep your design, but I think the counters need to be movable instead of fixed."_

"_Removable, you mean."_

_Uncomfortable with the edge in his voice, she but her lip. "You might what to change it."_

"_You're keeping one foot out the door."_

"_What do you mean?" she asked, but she knew. He'd seen her ambivalence, her fear._

"_Nothing nailed down. No permanent fixtures other than the required plumbing. You refused to sign the builder's contract today. He might have believed your excuse of rethinking the design, but I don't. Either you're in or you're out. Which is it?"_

_Stalling, she rearranged he silverware. "I'm in. I think."_

"_Once we conceive this child, you can't change your mind. I will be a part of my baby's life - a part of your life for at least eighteen years and very likely longer."_

_That's what scared her. That and the fact that she'd almost signed contracts today committing to running her business from Chuck's basement. Doubts had hit her as soon as she'd lifted the pen. The contractor had been understanding and agreed to give her a few days to think over his estimate._

"_I know how long we'd be tired together, Chuck. Let's eat before dinner gets cold." Coward, her conscience gibed._

"_Let it." he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle and she jumped. "It wouldn't be the first time." His palms spread low over her abdomen, pulling her flush against him, then his lips grazed her neck in that spot that has always driven her crazy. "Let's make a baby tonight, Blair."_

_Hunger for her husband raced through her and temptation chiseled away her will to resist. Her breath hiccupped in , then shudder out. She desperately sought any reason to resist. "I don't know if it's the right time of the month."_

_His hands caressed upward, stopping short of her breasts, then back down again to her hips. "Forget about timing. Focus on how good we are together. "_

_He skimmed up her torso again, and her nipples tightened in anticipation, but he stopped short of them to trace the elastic band at the bottom of her bar before descending up again._

_Up. Down. Up. Down. With each rise her breath caught. With each descent she exhaled…in disappointment, it shamed her to admit. Despite everything that had happened in the past, she wanted his touch. Craved his touch._

_But she wasn't ready. She wasn't strong enough. Why was that, exactly? She couldn't concentrate on the reasons this shouldn't happen yet, with his hands on her body. Chuck had always known exactly how to arouse her. Physically, they'd always been in perfect tune._

_Up. This time her cradled her breasts, instead of leaving her hanging. His thumbs brushed across the puckered tips and her womb tightened. Why was she even bothering to fight? She was going to give in eventually , anyway. Wasn't she?_

_Down. She caught his hands, halting their descent, and lifting them back to where she needed them. Chuck rewarded her by simultaneously rolling her nipples with his fingers and scrapping his teeth lightly along the shell of her ear. A shudder racked her._

_She pushed her hips back against him and encountered his erection, rigid and hot against her spine. Her resistance crumbled. She turned in his arms, her hip bumping deliberately over his arousal and making him _inhale sharply.

His nostrils flared, and then he stabbed his fingers into her hair, framing her head and holding her steady. His mouth covered hers. Their tongues clashed in a kiss as wild and passionate and breathtaking as any they'd ever shared. Each successive kiss and caress grew more urgent, more desperate. His hands skimmed down to cover her bottom and yank her closer.

She dug her fingers into his waist and held on until her head spun from lack of oxygen and disorientation.

The past and the present blurred in a wash of want and hormones. But if she couldn't distinguish between reality and old fantasies, then how would she survive this relationship? Chuck had been her greatest joy, but also her greatest weakness. She ripped her mouth from his and touched her fingers to her still-tingling lips.

Desire darkened Chuck's eyes and his cheekbones. His palms branded her upper arms. "Make love with me, Blair. Now. Tonight."

Her heart battered against her rib cage and her mouth went dry. If she had sex with him now, there would be no turning back, no time to gather her strength. She'd be surrendering without making one single attempt at self-preservation. "I can't. I'm sorry."

And then she did exactly what she'd done seven years ago when she'd woken up on the sofa with two empty wine bottles lying on the floor and no memory of opening the second.

She Ran.


	11. Chapter 10

Chuck couldn't wipe the smile off his face. He'd awaken hard, horny and miserable as a result of last night's kisses, but he wasn't complaining. He considered the prelude to his nearly sleepless night progress.

Blair was almost his. It was only a matter of time before the chemistry between them became explosive.

Balancing the tray on one hand, he knocked on her door with the other. She didn't answer, but that didn't surprise him. Blair had always been a sound sleeper. He turned the knob and pushed.

She lay on her side, with the covers bunched at her feet. She'd always preferred to sleep without getting tangled in bedding. One long, bare leg was hooked over a pillow she clutched to her chest. Her position stretched the fabric of her night gown tight across her bottom, making it easy to determine she wasn't wearing panties.

During their early days, he'd been her pillow, and her leg would have been hitched over his hip and thigh. And she would have been naked. His groin pulsed at the memory.

The temptation to wake her the way he once had - by caressing her skin, running his palm up her leg and smoothing over her round butt - was almost irresistible.

"Blair. Wake up."

She startled awake and rolled over, shoving her curls out of her face. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I brought breakfast."

Squinting, she scrubbed the sleep from her eyes. Knowing her as well as he did had its rewards. He took advantage of her usual morning fog to hustle forward and plant himself on the bed beside her before she awoke enough to realize she was giving him one hell of a good view. If he anchored the sheets in the process, making it impossible to cover up, he considered it a fringe benefit. She had to get comfortable around him again and the only way to achieve that goal was through exposure.

"Sit up."

Blinking owlishly at the tray, she scooted up against the pillows. "You cooked?"

He didn't miss the suspicion in her morning-husky tone. "Well, no. I had Dorota prepare it. But I brought it upstairs all by myself."

She bit her lip, worrying the soft, pink flesh and making him ache to lean in and kiss her again. But moving too fast could cost him the battle, so instead, he settled the tray across her lap and enjoyed the sight of her nipples tenting her thin nightgown. The little nubs drew his gaze like a power outage dose looters and hit his gut with a brick of desire that splintered through him like a broken window. He blinked and tried to focus on his goal - getting her to let down her guard. He nudged the coffee mug in her direction.

"Blair took the mug from him. Her hair fell across her face as she bent to take a sip. He caught a strand and twined a curl around his finger. Her chin jerked up. He tucked the lock behind her ear, taking the time to run his finger down the side of her jaw and over her pulse point. The beat quickened beneath his fingertip.

"You always did look good in the morning."

She leaned out of reach and put a self-conscious hand to her tousled hair. "My hair's probably a mess."

He shrugged. "A little messy. But that's always more interesting than a women with every hair in place."

He cheeks flushed, then her eyes narrowed on his.

"Did you sleep at all last night, Chuck?"

Busted. "Finish your breakfast. I have a meeting with Eric this morning. I'll be leaving in a few minutes."

"Is everything all right?" he shouldn't be surprised she'd picked up on his tension. Blair had always bee perceptive. And he'd been a fool to neglect her.

"He's obsessing about a new venture. I need to talk him off the ledge."

"You're good at that."

If he's been better a talking sense into people, he would have been able to talk her out of leaving. But then, she'd given him no clue of her plans. One day she'd been there and the next she'd been gone.

"I'm good at a lot of things." His gaze fell to her breasts. Her breath hitched and her nipples puckered. "If you'll excuse me, I'll take my shower and then deal with the contractor. You take care of your brother."

He patted her thigh, savoring the warm silkiness of her skin and fighting the urge to slide his fingers north into the warmth between her legs. Her quadriceps tensed beneath his fingers, reminding him of his goal - getting her pregnant.

But this was the one time he'd welcome failure on the first few tries. Hell, he wouldn't mind if it took a year…or two. As long as he had Blair in his bed he'd be happy.


	12. Chapter 11

"So Blair is back," Eric said as soon as Chuck closed the door marked Vice President. "Why?"

"What do you mean why? I told you."

"C'mon, Chuck. Level with me."

"You don't believe she missed me and what we had and wanted to try again?"

"No. You burst in here eight days ago asking questions about your divorce out of the blue. Four days later Blair moved in with you. The question is, what started that domino fall of events?"

He didn't intend to tell Eric - or anyone - the whole truth. Telling the truth meant admitting failure. "We still care about each other and we're going to try again."

His brother's expression turned from disbelief to disgust. "You're sticking with that lame story/"

"Yes."

"For the record, the rest of the staff may buy it, but I don't." Eric rocked back in his chair. "This isn't about your inability to accept failure like the rest of us, is it?"

Tension invaded Chuck's spine. "I don't know what you mean."

"You have no tolerance for weakness or failure. That goes double when it's your own. I credit your father for that. He rode you pretty hard."

Chuck had been a failure in his father's eyes. He knew it and accepted it.

"You could never accept that Blair might have gotten tired of playing house. You always blamed yourself for the failure of your marriage."

Chuck's surprise that Eric had read him so well vied with his anger at the unjust accusation, but he wasn't going to be so easily distracted. Worry for his brother had brought him to the lion's den. He parked his butt in the chair facing Eric. "Judging by the matching set of baggage beneath your eyes, you're not sleeping."

'What, are you a psychiatrist now?"

"You need to get your mind off work and get laid. Find someone to take the edge off. Isn't there a young man you can speed dial for an unemotional quickie?"

He could use a little of his own medicine. The trouble was, now that Blair was back, he didn't want anyone else, and even if he did, he couldn't risk a scandal that might cost them business.

Living with Blair was like walking a tightrope stretched between heaven and hell. One wrong step and he could fall and land on the wrong side of the rope. She'd insisted on sticking with her get-reacquainted stipulation, which resulted in him having one hell of a time concentrating on work.

The only upside: the lack of sheet time forced him to focus on less carnal aspects of his beautiful wife - like her new strength and confidence. Not to mention her recently acquired curves. A very sexy combo.

Eric pitched his pen onto the desktop. "Sex isn't the answer."

"Maybe not, but it relaxes you enough to get the blood flowing back to your brain."

A knock preceded the door opening a crack Allen, Eric's assistant, pocked her head through the gap. His gaze flickered between Chuck and Eric and then settled on his boss. "Your next appointment is on his way up."

Chuck turned back to Eric and caught a quick glimpse of something on his brother's face he hadn't seen before. But then Eric blinked and straightened, his mouth reforming into a tense line, before Chuck could decipher the expression. "Thank you, Allen. Give me five minutes."

"Yes, sir." The door closed.

His own lack of sleep had him imagining things. Was there something between his brother and Allen? No way. Eric would never condone and office affair. Maybe thoughts of another man had brought that hungry expression to Eric's face just before his assistant had knocked. Did he have a speed date in mind already?

Chuck rose. "Think about what I said. Get a little R & R before you crack up. I don't want you to turn into me."

"I'm fine. You watch your step. I don't want to have to clean up again after hurricane Blair blows out of your life again."

"Not going to happen." Chuck intended to make damned sure of it. He might be fallible and he did make mistakes.

But he never made the same one twice.


	13. Chapter 12

Blair's cell vibrated in her pocket, making her jump. she grimaced at Laure. "Oops. Sorry. My phone buzzed me."

Lauren waved her hand. "No problem. Go ahead and see who it is. I know your waiting on calls from contractors.

Blair checked the caller ID. CHUCK. Her pulse took a ba-ba-boom misstep.

"It's my husband." She had to force herself to say the H-word. In her head Chuck had been her ex for so long it would some time to get used to his new/old status.

"Take the call. Believe me, if Jason called I'd answer."

'Thanks." Blair punched the button. "Yes?"

"Join me for lunch," Chuck's deep voice said, and her heart clenched in regret.

"Too late. I'm just finishing brunch with Lauren. And then we're going shopping."

"We'll do it another time." Did he sound disappointed? "Don't forget to get the doctors recommendations. See you tonight, baby."

That 'baby' shimmied down her spine like a feather-light caress. Blair disconnected and pocketed her cell. As much as she liked Lauren and believed they could be friends, Blair had no intention of asking for an obstetricians name, because a very intense part of her subconscious kept yelling, Run before it's too late!

She dabbed her mouth with her napkin. "How long have you and Jason been married?"

"Three weeks." Lauren replied with a smile that lit up her face.

Surprise hiked Blair's eyebrows. "You're newlyweds."

"That, of course, leads to the next question." Lauren pointed to her baby bump. "Jason and I worked together in LA and had a brief affair before he moved here for the Bass Job. It wasn't supposed to be more then that. The pregnancy caught me by surprise, and I debated not telling him. I was prepared to have my baby on my own. But when Jason found out, he wanted more. Our explosive chemistry returned and we got married." She winked. "He is pretty irresistible when he puts his mind to it."

Love and pregnancy combined to give Lauren's face a beautiful glow that Blair had read about but never seen. An itty-bitty twinge of jealousy nipped at her heels. She would never have that glow with Chuck. She couldn't afford to let herself love as she once had ever again.

"What about you and Chuck? You do realize you're the hot topic in the Bass break room at the moment, don't you?"

Blair grimaced. "I suspected that might be the case. Chuck and I have known each other our whole lives, we fell in love in high school and got married in collage, eight years ago."

"I sense a story there."

Blair shrugged and decided it would be best not to share her background. Lauren nodded "Do you mind me asking what happened to you and Chuck?"

A fresh wave of pain hit hard and fast. Blair glanced away. If she was over him, then why did it still hurt to think about those miserable months/

"After Chuck took over Bass Industries, he and I hit a rough patch and took a break. We're trying to work out our differences now." She believed she could trust Lauren and was tempted to ask her advice, but instead, she tucked the cash for her lunch into the vinyl folder with the bill and tactfully changed the subject. "Are you ready to overheat your credit card?"

"Absolutely. I appreciate your wiliness to tag along and offer your onion. Most women's eyes glaze over when I start babbling about nurseries - unless they're pregnant." Lauren's mouth dropped open in surprise. "You're not, are you?"

"Pregnant? No. but Chuck and I are discussing it. We'd once planned to have a large family, so I don't mind looking."

They arrived at the baby boutique catering to upper-class mommies-to-be. Blair followed Lauren in.

Inside the boutique each vignette portrayed a perfect decorated nursery. Before she'd left Chuck, Blair used to wander through children's boutiques, yearning for a family and someone to love. But she'd done her looking and yearning alone.

Then the oddest thing happened at the fourth display. A sensation of coming home settled over her like a warm blanket. She ran her fingers over the rails of am oak crib and tried in vain not to fall in love with the piece.

If the baby plan came to fruition, she had to have this.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" A saleswomen said.

"Yes." Blair looked around for Lauren, but her new friend had moved several displays deeper into the store.

"Each spindle is hand-lathed, and of course safety checked. It's one of a kind from one of the most talented and sought after craftsman. When are you due?" the women asked.

"Oh. I'm not pregnant, yet."

A polite smile stretched the women's lips. "Ah. Then may I suggest that if you're going to wait till you conceive, you might not want to set your heart on this crib. This gentleman's work always sells within a week of being put on the floor."

Indecision twisted inside Blair. If she walked away now, she'd probably never have this set. But if she brought it, she'd be making a commitment to an idea that still terrified her. "I …I'd better catch up with my shopping partner."

The saleswomen's interest cooled. "Of course."

Blair shadowed Lauren through the store. "Blair , are you okay?"

'Can I ask you something?" she waited for Lauren's nod "Starting a family, moving across the country, it's a lot to take on, and yet you seem so serene. Doesn't this much change at once make you nervous?"

Lauren chuckled. "Of course it dose. And if I appear calm, it's and illusion. I adore my husband, and I can't imagine not having this baby or sharing the pregnancy with Jason now. My only concern is that Jason loves his work so much he might miss a few things if I don't make sure he puts us ahead of the business."

The words struck a chord deep inside of Blair. "I understand that concern all too well. After Chuck took over at Bass he became a workaholic. I almost never saw him."

"I'll bet that contributed to your need for a break."

Blair hesitated, than nodded. "For what it's worth, I make Jason take time out most weekends for a sail on his boat. That allows us some quality one-on-one time and gives me an opportunity to polish my painting skills."

The wicked glint in Lauren's eyes caught Blair's attention. "Do I want to pursue that topic?"

Lauren flashed a mischief-filled grin. "Probably not."

She tapped a hand carved toy chest. "What do you think of this? It's not to feminine, is it?"

"No. it's lovely." Blair realized that she and Lauren were approaching pregnancy with polar-opposite attitudes. Lauren's pregnancy had been unplanned and yet she'd happily embraced the coming baby and the upheaval in her life. Blair, on the other hand, was trying to plan and control every detail and was petrified of failing and falling in love with Chuck again. She wished she possessed a fraction of Lauren's courage.

She wanted a baby, a family. And she wanted to expand her business. Chuck was offering her the opportunity to achieve her dreams. All she had to do was guard her heart for the next twelve to eighteen months or so and then divorce Chuck. With so much to gain, how could she afford to say no?


	14. Chapter 13

A combination of trepidation and excitement filled Blair with three parts can-do attitude and one part yellow-bellied coward as the cab pulled to the curb.

"Please don't let this be a mistake," she whispered as she shoved open the taxi door and slug her purse over her shoulder.

Commit to a goal and go for it, the words echoed in her head.

But she didn't have a clue how to approach her husband for a procreation-only get together. In the past when they'd made love she hadn't minded initiating the encounters, but this time there would be no love involved - just sex and if she was lucky, a baby. She'd checked her calendar and the timing seemed right.

She slipped her key into the lock and let herself in the front door. The aroma of grilling beef reached her, making her mouth water and her tummy grumble. Se stopped in surprise. Was Chuck home? "Chuck?"

"In the den."

She dropped her bag, took a deep breath for courage and made her way to the back of the house. Her legs trembled like a virgin's. Crazy.

As she past the kitchen, she noted the man in chef whites standing by the range, Turing steaks.

"You're home early." She said as she entered the den.

He turned twisting the cap on a bottle of sparkling water and filled to champagne flutes waiting on the counter of the small bar. He brought one to her.

"Are we celebrating something?" How could he know she'd conquered her reservations and made a decision?

"The builder called. He said you'd sighed the contract."

Oh. That. "Yes."

He clinked his glass to hers. "Congratulations. You'll have a brand new office open in no time. May it be successful."

Her heart pounded against her chest wall. She took a sip, swallowed and then blurted, "I bought nursery furniture today."

Chuck's chest expended on a deep inhalation.

"Bout damn time," he muttered and set his glass aside, then he took hers, too, even thought she'd only had one sip.

He grasped her waist, his hands burning her through her knit dress, and pulled her body flush against his. "Wanting to hold you, touch you and taste you has been driving me crazy."

Her nervousness dissolved like sugar in boiling water - right along with her knees. She and Chuck had been good together. She should have known he wouldn't let this be awkward. The sex would be easy and natural, the way it had always been. All she had to worry about was protecting her heart.

He bent and kissed her, a soft sweep of his mouth over hers, a gentle nip off her bottom lip, and then he settled in. His lips pressed her apart and his tongue tangled with hers - slick, hot, wet and full of hungry passion. He tasted good, like the Chuck she remembered. Her heart raced as she ran her hands over his thick biceps, broad shoulders and strong back.

His hands skimmed over her, hitting every erogenous zone. She'd missed this. Missed them.

Blair leaned back and met his passion-darkened gaze"Looks like dinner is going to get cold."

Chuck fisted the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She gasped at the suddenness of the move. He stared down at her breasts and cupped them with his hands, sending a current of need straight to her core.

"I never thought it possible for you to be more beautiful then you were before. I was wrong."

She cupped his face and stroked his beard-stubbled jaw. "Thank you."

He bent and nuzzled her cleavage. The softness of his lips contrasting with the coarse rasp of his five o'clock shadow caused desire to fist in her abdomen. He dusted a string of butterfly light caresses across each curve until she ached for more. She arched to give him better access and to press her pelvis against his. His thick erection burned into her.

Reaching behind her, he released her bra and peeled the lace away, then captured a tight nipple with his mouth. Wet heat surrounded her sensitive flesh. He tugged with his lips, his teeth, his fingertips, forcing a moan of pleasure from her.

Heat radiated from her core. She raked her fingers through his soft hair and held him close. He knew exactly how she liked to be touched. Not too rough. Not too gentle. No one had ever been able to play her body the way Chuck could.

His fingers stabbed into the waist band of her panties making her grasp, and then the fabric lessened and her panties fell to the floor. His palm coasted over her hip, her belly and then over her heat. Pleasure sliced through her. "Chuck."

Eager to have his skin against hers, she kicked her clothing aside. And again he pulled back a few inches to study her. His expression gave approval as he reached for the buttons on his shirt. "Beautiful."

A moment's self-consciousness swept her. "I've gained weight."

He crushed her with a brief, hard kiss. "Baby, your new curves make me hot."

A smile bubbled to her lips. "I'm glad. Hurry," she pleaded and tried to help him disrobe, but her hands tangled with his, slowing him down. Impatient, she abandoned his shirt to tackle his belt and trousers.

Her fingers fumbled with the leather and metal, then he was as naked as she and it was her turn to feast on his wide shoulders, deep pectorals and washboard abdomen. She traced the thin line of hair bisecting his lower belly to his erection. She wrapped her fingers around his hard, satiny flesh and stroked, loving his grunt of approval and the blaze of his skin against her palm.

He scooped her up, swung her around and sat her on the bar. His fingers found the slick seam of her body and massaged her swollen flesh, making her womb clench with want. She wound her legs around his hips and tightened her brig on his steely flesh. "That feels wonderful."

"Slow down, baby."

"I don't want to go slow." She wanted fast and furious, a sensation overload to crowd out thoughts, doubts and fears that this could be a mistake. Sex with Chuck felt so good, so perfect and so right it scared her. They were so instantly in tune it could have been yesterday, instead of a lifetime ago, that they'd made love in this exact spot. In this room. On this bar. While some meal grew cold.

She hooked a hand behind his nape, yanked him close and kissed him, pulling him with her as she lay back on the cool wooden surface.

Chuck's body blanketed her with heat. His thighs pressed hers apart and hiS fingers found her exposed centre, then he took a nipple into his mouth, laved, sucked and nipped it while he manipulated her until a knot of tension twisted so tightly in her tummy that she thought she'd snap. He must know how close she was to the edge. He'd always been able to read her body language.

He worked his way down her torso, over her ribs, across her waist to her hipbone, then her circled her navel, alternately teasing and arousing her with soft lips and hot tongue and bristly chin.

Blair's muscles wound tighter with each inch he covered. Then he found her centre, sucked her into his mouth and flicked his tongue over her. Release hovered just out of reach.

"Chuck, I want you inside me," she whispered and tried to guide him.

He lifted his head from her. "Not yet."

His chin rasped her tender flesh, making her toes tingle. And then he pushed her over the edge. Orgasm crashed over her.

His gaze locked with hers as she tried to catch her breath, then he captured her hands and carried them over her head, rising above her and pinning her to the bench top. He stroked his penis against her, his silky hard flesh gliding over her slick crevice as he sawed back and forth.

Each smooth advance and slow retreat moved her closer and closer to a second release and her back arched in anticipation. He paused leith his thick tip at her entrance.

"Don't you dare stop now," she ordered hoarsely. Squeezing her legs around him, she lifted her hips.

"And if I do?" She felt him smile against her temple.

"I'll make you pay."

His chest shuddered against hers on a rumble of laughter, then he plunged forward, thrusting deep into her body and pushing the air from her lungs. He drove in again and again, and she lost command of her body. Orgasm fractured her, emptied her lungs and seized control of her muscles, making them jerk and spasm.

Chuck buried his face in her neck. "I...can't...hold...on."

"Don't even try." She pulled her hands free, raked her nails down his back and nipped his earlobe in the way she knew would break his restraint. His groan filled her ear as he bucked against her and emptied into her.

An urge to hold him close and cuddle descended on her. But there was no place for lovey-dovey this time around. As her skin cooled and her respiratory rate returned to something approaching normal, the gravity of the situation descended upon her. They could very well have made a baby tonight, and if they had there was turning back.

Fear made her heart pound. She'd been sure she could do this earlier. But that was before they'd made love and she'd lost sight of her goal. Get pregnant. Get out. Instead, she wanted nothing more than to make love with Chuck again. And again. She couldn't afford to let him become an addiction that could ultimately destroy her.

She pushed against his shoulder, "Let me up."

Chest heaving, Chuck slowly levered himself off her, his eyelids were heavy, his face relaxed and his hair...well, she'd wrecked it. The strands stood in dark, irregular spikes.

"Going somewhere?" A smile lifted one corner of his mouth, and the tenderness in his eyes made her tummy swoop alarmingly.

She couldn't care about him. She had to remember this was a simple case of supply and demand. A business transaction. She wanted a baby. He'd promised to provide one. But the warmth and wetness of their joined bodies felt better than any business transaction she'd ever conducted and far more personal than insemination at a clinic would have been.

She squirmed to get out from under him and stanched her clothing from the floor. This wasn't more than sex, was it? Of course not. She'd have to be a total idiot to risk loving him again. She needed space and time to get her head together. "I'm going to shower before dinner."

"Sounds good." He pulled up and refastened his pants as if he planned to join her - the way he once would have.

"Alone," she insisted and fled.


	15. Chapter 14

He'd miscalculated, Chuck realised as he watched his naked wife leave the room, her round behind jiggling and bare feet slapping the hardwood floors as she hustled down the centre hall and up the stairs.

Hit and run encounters were nothing new to him. He'd had several over the past years while he'd believed himself single, but having one with Blair left a void in his chest.

He scooped up his shirt and stuffed his arms in the sleeves. His theory that reminding Blair of how good they used to be would lead to a happy reunion had missed its mark. Now what?

He grasped the back of his neck and scanned the room. Dinner. After she had her shower she'd come back down and they'd discuss the situation over bacon wrapped, medium rare filet mignon, buttered asparagus and ciabatta bread. All prepared and served by the catering staff he had on call.

The old adage 'two steps forward and one back' seemed to apply. Today she'd signed contracts and brought baby furniture, committing to spend time with him. And they'd had unprotected sex. That realisation hit him with a fresh rush of adrenalin. Could their cells be on a collision course already?

So where had the reconciliation train derailed? At what point had he lost her? He could have sworn she'd been with him right up until he'd made like a geyser and blown. He knew the sex had been good. Fast, but good. He'd felt her contracting around him as she climaxed.

He tried to correlate the data and couldn't make sense of the way she blew hot and cold. Fear of pregnancy wasn't the issue, since the baby had been her idea. And she planned to divorce him. That meant she couldn't be concerned about him abandoning her again. Not that he intended to let that happen.

He didn't like her holding back even though he was doing the same. But he had to be careful. He wasn't sure he could handle loving her as deeply as he had before and then losing her again. If he hadn't been able to lose himself in Bass Industries, he might not have survived. But that was the catch-22. Blair claimed his obsession with his job had killed their marriage.

By the time dinner was ready, he had a rough idea of how to move forward. Identify the problem. Own the problem. Solve the problem.

The food was plated and ready to serve, but there was still no sign of Blair. Did she plan to hide in her room for the rest of the night? He wouldn't let that happen. He had the staff load the plates on trays and carried them upstairs. The strategy had gained him ground this morning. Why not try it again?

He knocked on her door. No answer. She could still be in the shower. He turned the knob and pushed. His gaze ran over her neatly made empty bed and on to the bathroom's open door. Empty.

The shift of the window sheer caught his eye. One French door to the balcony stood ajar. Blair leaned against the outside railing facing the sunset. He had a throw wrapped around her shoulders against the cool evening air.

He crossed the room and toed open the door. She startled and turned. He ignored the lack of welcome on her face nod set the tray on the small bistro table.

"Dinner's ready."

She didn't move away from the rail. "Chuck, I'm ovulating. I thought I might be...so I checked."

He sucked in a deep breath. "How do you check?"

"I did a test strip after my shower."

"They make tests for that?"

"Yes, and since it might already be too late to change our minds I need to know you'll respect the boundaries I've laid out."

He'd respected them - right up until he mowed them down. He wanted his wife back, and didn't intend to settle for less than a normal marriage. "Blair, I would never force you to do something you didn't want to do, nor would I ever use a child as a weapon against you."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"If you're ovulating now, how long is our window of opportunity open?"

Her gaze bounced around the room then back to his. "About three days."

That meant he had three days to let the magic between them soften her up. But each month she failed to conceive meant one more he'd get to keep her around and additional time. To convince her to throw away her idea of a temporary relationship.

He pointed to the chair and waited until she sat. "I owe you an apology."

Her expression turned wary. "For what?"

"Durning the last six months of our marriage I used our home like a hotel room, only dropping in when I needed a shower or to crash before my head exploded. And I treated you no better than a hotel maid. I took what you did for me and our home for granted, and I even left cash like a tip on the table for you."

Her brow pleated. "Chuck -"

He held up a hand. "Let me finish. My only defence is that I was afraid of failing my fathers memory and the entire staff of Bass Industries. In the end I failed you, someone much more important to me than any of them. I take full responsibility for the failure of our marriage."

Her lips parted on a gasp and then she quickly ducked her head and focused on the fingers she'd knotted in her lap.

What had caused her shoulders to hunch? Why had she flinched?

She exhaled slowly. A moment later she lifted her gaze to his again, looking at him through worried eyes, under long, dense lashes. "Apology accepted. But that doesn't change our current situation. We'll have this baby and then we'll go our separate ways. I'm not looking for forever, Chuck."

Not what he wanted to hear, but he would change her mind.

"We'll take it one day at a time." He studied her face, her eyes and the tense way she perched on the chair.

Blair was hiding something. But what?

He wouldn't rest until he found out what.


	16. Chapter 15

Making love with Chuck had been neither clinical nor emotionless - the way Blair had hoped and expected it would be. The thoughtful, romantic meal he'd had prepared only exacerbated the situation.

Dinner with him resurrected to many memories; good ones of sharing similar evenings and bad ones of sitting on the sofa in sexy lingerie and waiting for him to come home or sitting outside on this balcony drinking alone. That was one of the reasons she'd chosen this room - to remind her of how weak she'd been.

Did that make her a masochist? Maybe. But the only way to overcome a weakness was to admit it and confront it - something Blair had never been very good at.

Blair lay down her fork, her tummy full but agitated, and focused on Chuck, his thick jaw and delicious mouth. He abhorred weakness of any kind. Would he hate her if he discovered her secret? Would he try and turn their child against her?

The urge to run quickened her pulse and dried her mouth. She wouldn't find the space she needed to distance herself from Chuck in this house, not with the past suffocating her.

"I'm going home to my mothers tonight. I have some things to take care of for the business."

He frowned. "You said you were ovulating."

Therein lay the complication. Hr break would, of necessity, be a brief one. And then tomorrow night she'd come back and make lo-have sex with Chuck again whether or not she had her head together. But right now she needed the strength that only mental and physical distance could deliver.

Beneath the table she picked at the seam of her pants with a fingernail. "Twenty-four hours shouldn't matter. I'll come back tomorrow as son as I've done what needs doing."

His gaze fixed on hers like crosshairs on a target. "Let me help you with your business. I know an accountant that I trust who'll help you sort it all out."

He'd always try to take care of her, to protect her from difficulties. She had to make him understand she needed to stand on her own feet. "Chuck, I have an accountant. I know what I'm doing. I've been doing it for a while now."

She couldn't let herself become dependent on him. He was only a temporary fixture in her life. "The builder will be here soon, and I want to be here. He's working us in between projects. So I need to get this stuff done now. Tonight."

Resignation flattered his lips. "I call a car for you. It's not far but you just never know what could happen in this city."

His concern yanked oat something inside her, reminding her of a time they couldn't bear being apart for more than a few hours and they'd bent over backward to please each other. But those days were long gone and they weren't coming back. She wouldn't let them.

XOXO

Chuck caught himself watching the clock the next morning and counting the minutes until he could get out of this meeting. Work had once monopolised his though, but since Blair had come back into his life she'd taken over the top slot.

Only half listening to the discussion around the conference room table, he caught himself sketching her name in the margin of the report in front of him and shifted in his seat.

What time would she get home?

Would she even come back?

She'd appeared to have second thoughts about their bargain after the sex. He'll, she'd left last night to avoid a repeat encounter. He would have loved to get her intro his bed and make love to her again more slowly, taking time t linger over each inch of her satiny skin. He would have reacquainted himself with all his favourite places; the sensitive spot behind her knee where she often dabbed perfume; the dimples at the base of her spine that she hated; the ticklish arch of her foot.

But she hadn't been interested in round two. If she really wanted to get pregnant, wouldn't she have hung around to jump him again last night and this morning?

It bothered him that she'd sent him a text message to let him know she'd arrived safely rather than to call as he'd asked. Like some romantic, newlywed sap, he'd wanted to hear her voice.

He checked his watch again. He'd have a surprise for Blair when - if - she came back. She liked to do her exercising indoors. He'd ordered a treadmill and video setup for her so she could walk her miles and watch her favourite movies simultaneously. The equipment would be delivered late this afternoon.

Eric continued explaining how the economic crises had put a squeeze on the potential clients dollars. Nothing Chuck didn't already know. Then his brother switched to taking about a new acquisition. Again, it wasn't a news bulletin.

"That's bull and you know it," Asher Williams, one of the Bass board members, barked in reply to something Eric said, making Chuck snap to attention.

What had he missed? Chuck scanned the tense faces around the table and tried to figure out what had set off the normally unflappable Asher.

"Asher, we have to make it work," Eric said.

"You're asking the impossible." He shot to his feet and slammed out of the conference room. Silence descended, broken only by Eric's muffled curse and the shuffling of papers and clearing throats of the board members around the table.

Damn. Chuck rose. "I'll talk to him."

He followed Asher out and down the hall to an empty office and knocked on the open door. "You okay?"

Asher's brows flatlined over his hazel eyes. "This company is trying to squeeze blood out of a rock. It can't be done."

"I hear you. But we have to stay competitive."

Asher stared silently out the window, his back tense. Chuck closed the office door. "Is this even about work?" The silence stretched. "Do you have something you need to run by me?"

"Melody's gone."

Another man with women troubles. What was stat old cliche? Women, can't live with them, can't live without them. They were a blessing and curse. "Temporarily or permanently?"

"I don't know."

"Any idea where she went?"

"Negative."

"Been there, done that, man. You have my sympathy. Will you look for her?"

Asher pivoted abruptly. "He'll no. We were never going to be anything but short-term, anyway. I've been paying her way through law school, buts she's probably found another sucker."

"That sucks. Losing a woman you love-"

"I never said I loved her. I don't. I'm just pissed off."

"Right." Denial was a wonderful thing. Chuck had fed on denial and anger for years after Blair left. Asher's drawn and pale face stared back at him. The guy might claim he wasn't hurting, but his eyes told a different story.

Chuck imagined he'd probably looked the same when Blair left the first time. But that was then. He intended to right the wrong he'd committed and repair his marriage. And while he'd love to have a long term relationship with Blair and have several more children with her. He couldn't afford to love as wholeheartedly as he once had.

He'd save his love for his child or children if he could talk her into more. At least they wouldn't leave him until college time.


	17. Chapter 16

Walking toward Chuck's house shouldn't have been an aphrodisiac, but for Blair, it was. She knew they'd have sex tonight. And only sex. There would be no bonding. Just sweaty, satisfying, exhilarating fulfilment.

Familiar signs of arousal took control of her body: accelerated pulse rate, flushed skin, shortness of breath, excessive moisture in her mouth. Her hands shook as she climbed the steps to the front door.

She let herself in and silence greeted her. She noticed the spicy, garlicky, tomatoey scent in the air. Her mouth watered for an entirely different reason, and her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

"Chuck?" She followed her nose to the kitchen and found it empty. A note on the table caught her eye, she snatched up the page. 'Come to the basement," Chuck had written.

Had they started work already? Dumping her purse on the counter, she hurried downstairs. He wasn't in the area designated for BWD. "Chuck?"

"In here," he called from the storage room across the hall.

She heard the sounds of 'Moon River' playing as she approached. At her touch, the door dragged over carpeting that hadn't been here before. She scanned the gym equipment filling the space.

Chuck stood in front of a wide, flat-panel television mounted on the wall. He turned and extended his arms. "What do you think?"

That he looked delicious.

He tossed a small black object at her. She snapped out of her daze, daughter it and identified a remote control.

"I didn't know you'd turned this room into a home gym."

"I hadn't until today. You can watch your movies while you work out."

Surprised and touched by his thoughtfulness, she gasped. "You did this for me?"

H nodded. "I ordered the equipment the day after you moved in. They delivered it today."

A little of the wall she'd built around her heart crumbled. This was the old Chuck, the one who'd routinely surprised her with thoughtful, considerate gestures or gifts. The one she'd fallen in love with so long ago. She swallowed to ease the Lou in her throat and reminded herself to guard her heart.

"This is incredibly nice, Chuck, but I could have joined a gym."

"You hate the gym. Dealing with strangers sweat."

She grimaced at the memory of how she used to seize any opportunity to avoid exercise. But that had been back when she was young enough to eat and not gain an ounce.

"We'll, yes, but...you didn't have to go to this expense. Thank you."

He pointed to an empty corner. "There's room over there for a playpen or a crib. For after the baby."

Her head spun with images of Chuck's hands splayed over her swollen belly, of him cradling their tiny infant in his big, gentle hands.

A knot of emotion rose in her throat. "I...I hope you'll use some of the equipment, too."

"I will. Especially this." He straddled the weight bench. His thick biceps flexed as he pulled down on the bar hanging over his head.

She wanted him. Like this. Relaxed. Sexy. The old Chuck.

Hr feet felt weighted as she crossed the room to his side and bent to kiss him. He let her take the lead, let her move her lips over his, waited for her tongue to slip into his mouth and caress his before he responded without releasing the weight bar. His tongue dulled with hers.

Her pulse raced as she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and gently nipped the tender flesh. He grunted his approval. She lifted her head. Passion widened his pupils, the black almost obliterating his blue irises.

He shook his head. "As much as I would love to take you right here, right now, we're not rushing tonight. This time I want you in my bed. Naked, wet and breathless."

Desire made her dizzy. "You have two out of three already."

His nostrils flared, then a dangerous, naughty smile curved hoer lips. "Dinner first."

He exploded off the bench and brushed past her, leaving her straight at his gorgeous backside. And hungry. But not for dinner.

She wanted Chuck as badly as she ever had.


	18. Chapter 17

Chuck's muscles were so tense he could barely swallow. Dinner had been one long foreplay session.

With an imp of mischief lurking in her face, Blair had lingered over her food, licking dots of sauce from the corner of her mouth.

He wanted that mouth on him, that talented pink tongue licking his lips, instead of hers. The moment she pushed her plate away, he shot to his feet.

Without a word she peeled her sweater over her head, dropped it on the floor and then pivoted and sauntered down the centre hall to the stairs - the same way she'd retreated last night, only this time her invitation was clear in every sexy sway of her hips.

He smiled at the familiar game, and the needle of his body compass pointed north. In the early days, coming home to a bra on the foyer floor had been one hell of a welcome and the promise of a hot night ahead. When they'd wanted to make love he and Blair used to leave trails of clothing like bread crumbs leading to their location of choice. But somewhere along the way, they'd quit playing with each other and merely coexisted in the same space.

The blame for that rested solely on his shoulders. He been the one too exhausted to accept her sexy invitations. The disappointment he'd seen on her face when he refused had led him to sleep at the office a bit too often. He'd been so afraid of failing at work he couldn't tolerate the possibility of failing at home, too. In the end, his fear had become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

But not anymore. He had control of all aspects of his life - all except his relationship with Blair. And if he felt a mild sense of discontent, than as soon as he had his marriage under control, that dissatisfaction would disappear.

He sat down long enough to untie and remove his shoes and socks, and then followed her. Her bra draped the newel post, a pick lacy scrap of almost nothing. He stopped it up and sniffed her scent. The fabric still carried the warmth of her body. He could see his fingers through the cups. Halfway up the staircase she'd left one shoe. A few treads higher he spotted the other. He shucked his shirt and draped it over it over the banister. It slid down. He didn't care. Her pants puddled on the landing. He dropped his on top of them, then paused.

Which bedroom? His or hers?

The pink panties hanging on his doorknob provided the answer. Grinning, he strode toward the trail marker and hooked the lacy garment with his finger. They smelled of her. He pushed open the door. Blair reclined on a on a pile of pillows in the middle of his big bed with one knee bent to hid her most private part, but that didn't make the sight of his wife, curvy and naked on his sheets, any less inviting or arousing.

He dangled her lingerie from his fingers. "Next time I want to see you in these. Then I'll take them off you."

She licked her lips, and he could practically feel her tongue on his erection. Heat pumping through him. Her gaze raked him, pausing at his tented boxes. "One of us is overdressed."

He dropped her undergarments, shoved his boxes down his legs and kicked them aside, then slowly stalked toward the bed. He stretched out on the mattress beside her, but he didn't touch her. Not yet. Once he did he wouldn't be able to stop. A flush of arousal pink ended her cheeks, chest and breasts. Her nipples contracted under his a scrutiny, and her stomach quivered slightly with each shallow breath she took.

He ached to be inside her, to pound his way to release, but he'd promised himself he'd take it slow and remind Blair how amazingly perfect they were together before letting go.

He twisted a chocolate ringlet around his finger, then released it to stroke her cheek, her nose, the softness of her parted lips. "I've missed this. Us."

Hr breath hitched. She captured his hand, guided it to her breast. The soft glob filled his palm, the pebbled tip pressing into him. He rolled the point between his fingers, drawing a whimper from her. Her lids fluttered closed. Propped on one elbow, he bent and replaced his fingers with his mouth, leaving his hand free to explore her other breast, her smooth stomach, her long legs and damp slit. She was already moist and hot. Need fisted in his abdomen.

She arched into his fingers, but he didn't want to rush this, so he moved on caressing the crease behind her knee, the curve of her waist, the sensitive spot beneath her arm and the dip of her naval. She shuddered, encouraging him to follow the same path with his lips.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, alternately gripping and releasing. Her toes curled against the sheets. He relished her scent, her taste, the softness of her skin against his lips and tongue.

She slid the arch of her foot up his calf and down again. Her free hand kneaded his back, then his butt before sliding toward his swollen flesh. Determined to keep her from rushing him, he kept his groin out of reach. She detached from his hair to trace the shape of his ear and to tease the hammering pulse point below with the light scrape of her short nails. Desire rippled over him. Blair had never been a passive lover. She gave as much as she received.

He grazed his teeth along her instep and her legs tensed. He circled her ankle with his tongue, then worked his way up the back of her leg to nibble the bottom of her curved buttocks. Her muscles tightened. She twisted beneath him, winding her legs around him and rubbing her hot centre against his thigh.

Palming her knees, he pressed her legs apart, leaving her open and exposed to his gaze, to his mouth. He licked her slick seam, making her jerk and gasp, and then he nuzzled against her.

Her scent filled him with the anticipation of driving her over the edge, of hearing her cries and feeling her contract around him. Slowly. He found her centre again with his tongue, flicking the hot, pink nub, teasIng her to the brink and then backing off. Paying close attention to the tension of her muscles, he repeated the process, smiling against her thigh at the frustrated groan when he left her hanging a second time. He urged her toward orgasm again, but before he could withdraw a third time, her fingers fisted in his hair.

"Please, Chuck."

Her breathless plea sent his blood south. His penis pulsed against his thigh, reminding him who was boss and urging him to get on with it. He slid his fingers inside her and she groaned . She was so wet, so hot and tight and ready for him that it took all his restraint to delay his own gratification.

He sucked her into his mouth, making her moan and arch, and then he stroked her with his tongue and his hand until her muscles squeezed his fingers and her cries filled his ear. He climax shuddered through he. He barely gave her a moment to catch her breath between spasms before making her come again and again.

She sank into the bed limo as he tongued her navel, giving her a break before his next planned assault. Her hand gently caressed his cheek. She lifted his chin until their eyes met. "I want you inside me. Please, Chuck. It feels so good when you're inside me."

Hunger charged through him. He couldn't resist any longer. He climbed over her, hooked her legs over his forearms and drove deep. Slick heat welcomed him, and then she clutched him with her internal muscles, and it was his turn to groan as he nearly exploded with pleasure.

He drew back and sank in again and again. Her breast jiggling with each slam of his hips against hers, riveted him, and then he had to feel that movement with his hands. He cupped and kneaded her, tweaking her nipples while her rocked his hips.

Blair locked her ankles behind his back and clamped her hands on his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss that nearly boiled his brain. She devoured his moth in a clash of tongues and teeth. To stave off his own release, he tried to focus on her, on the stiffening of her muscles, on her dampening skin and on her panting breaths, but a fuse lit in his gut, and he ignited like a roman candle. He tore his mouth away from hers as a groan roared from him. Blast after blast of ecstasy rocketed through his extremities until he was nothing but spent ash.

His elbows buckled. He collapsed on top of her, cushioned by her soft breast, then eased to her side and braced himself on an elbow so he wouldn't crush her. A fog of satisfaction invaded his skull and weighted his eyelids.

Hitching her leg over his hip so he wouldn't have to disengage from the slick sleeve of her body, he wrapped her in his arms. Nothing had ever felt more right.


	19. Chapter 18

Excitement bubbled through Blair's veins Thursday evening as she stood on the path outside the basement watching the workers pack up their tools for the day.

Everything was coming together much faster than the months of chaos she'd endured when first starting her line. When Chuck flexed his influential muscles, work got done at an amazing rate. Yesterday he'd set up her gym, and today the permits had been issued and the work on her new space had begun.

"How did the first day of construction go?" Chuck asked from behind her, startling her. Her heart ba-boomed wildly as his arms encircled her waist and his lips brushed her jaw. She hadn't expected him until later...if at all. Shadows of the past crept over her.

She turned quickly, simultaneously stepping out of his embrace. He looked powerful, charismatic and successful in his immaculate charcoal-grey suit.

Memories of last night's passionate encounter rushed forward, but she muscled them back. Sexual satisfaction did not guarantee happiness, which was why shed sneaked out of Chuck's bed as soon as he'd fallen asleep, and then she'd awoken early this morning, raced to her new gym,climbed on the treadmill and donned a pair of earphones so she could be working out when he came downstairs before work.

Yes, she admitted, she was taking the coward's way out, rather than discussing a situation that scared her.

Focus on the project, a much safer topic. "The basement floor has been laid. Tomorrow they'll paint and then Monday the cabinets and drawing tables will be delivered and installed."

He strolled to the door to look around. "Looks good."

She caught herself checking out his broad shoulders, straight spine and tight butt, and forced her attention elsewhere. But diverting her gaze didn't derail her quickening pulse or the warmth pooling behind her navel.

The reminder that this was his house sobered her - exactly what she needed - and reminded her to ask her attorney to make sure everything she and Chuck had agreed upon was spelled out in their divorce agreement when the time came.

"That's great, I really want the space up and running before your pregnancy makes it difficult for you to deal with the setup."

His thoughtfulness melted a tiny chip of her heart. "I may not be pregnant yet."

"But you will be. Soon."

The sensual promise in his words made her heart and womb contract. "I don't know what kind of strings you pulled, but the contractor thinks it will be ready to by the end of next week."

He lifted a hand and tangled his fingers in her hair. Blair's muscles locked, trapping the air in her lungs and making retreat impossible. "You have something in your hair."

He plucked at the strands, but he didn't release her after he'd tossed whatever it was aside. Instead, he cupped her head and held her as he bent to capture her mouth. Alarms shrilled inside her as his lips sipped from hers, stirring a response she wanted to deny but couldn't.

Chuck piled her mouth with gentle tugs, then when she gasped, his tongue swept inside to tangle with hers. His palms skated down her arms to rest in the small of her back, then he pulled her forward until her body rested against his. His heat suffused hers.

She couldn't let herself love him again, but she couldn't stop the wanting. Kissing him felt so good, so familiar, so right. But it wasn't. Giving in to the passion he evoked was a dangerous act, like walking a tight wire without a net.

Push him away, a voice warned, but her neurones ignored the command. Her hands splayed on his chest. She felt the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm. Why hand't she ever found anyone who could arouse her the way Chuck did? With nothing more than a kiss he made her pulse race and her knees weak.

A truck door slammed nearby - probably one of the workers. Chuck eased back, reluctance clear on his face, and checked his watch. "I'm supposed to take you to the Rose Lounge for cocktails with some of the Bass Industries staff."

To continue the farce. The more people he introduced her to, the more he'd have to explain her absence to when they went their separate ways. "What is the Rose Lounge?"

"A new bar in one of our hotels down town."

"Chuck, I'm not sure including me in your celebrations with your employees is a good idea. When I leave -"

"That's a long way off. I'll deal with it if it happens. If we want this reconciliation to look real, then you'll join me."

"When it happens. I hate lying to everyone."

"Wild you prefer I call Eric and have him tell the staff we've decided to turn in early?"

Her cheeks heated at the implication and so did that coal in the centre of her pelvis that Chuck seemed to be able to ignite at will. Would they have sex again tonight?

Did she want to? Yes. The strength of her desire for him scared her.

He stroked her check, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Serena will be there."

Blair winced as he unintentionally twisted the knife of guilt inside her. Yet another person being deceived. She loved Serena. They had been best friends since they were toddlers.

But what choice did she have except to play along?

She gestured to her outfit. "I'll shower and change."

And then she'd face Chuck's coworkers and pull off the best acting job of her life. For her future child's sake, everyone had to believe the fairytale Chuck had chosen to tell.


	20. Chapter 19

AN: Sorry for the delay, I've been having really bad migraines and my doctor recommended staying away from my ipad/computer for a few days. Thank you for all your lovely reviews and words of encouragement. I really hope you all continue to enjoy my stories. Here is a very short chapter to tied you over. Xo

Blair catalog cataloged the dimly lit bar as she entered with Chuck on her heels. Small, trendy, hi-end clientele, and judging by the specials written on the blackboard, expensive.

Chuck's hand snaked around her waist, and his lips and warm breath touched her ear. "Head for the tables in the back."

To onlookers his embrace would look intimate, but in reality he'd issued a command in a low, don't argue with me tone, and his firm grip ensured she wouldn't chicken out and run.

She made her way down the centre aisle between the large bar taking up most of one wall and the green, glass-topped tables with tall black-lacquer bar chairs lining the opposite. The voices reached her even before she spotted the long table where a half dozen well dressed twenty and thirty something patrons sat.

Serena's blond head lifted. She spotted Blair and Chuck and waved. Conscious of other heads turning, Blair fought off her nervousness and returned the gesture. Another familiar face stood out from the crowed. Eric's.

Eric had never been fond of Blair, epically after all her drama with Jenny, which made him holding on to the divorce papers a bit unusual. He rose from his seat and approached her.

"Blair. Welcome back." His eyes and voice were as cool as his handshake. Had Chuck told Eric the truth? Had he told anyone?

"Thank you. It's...good to be back," she added, since it was probably expected of her.

Chuck's arms encircled her waist, and he spooned her back from shoulders to knees with the muscled planes of his body. A wave of awareness and warmth washed over her as he leaned forward until his slightly bristly cheek pressed. "Everybody, this is Blair. My wife."

A chorus of hellos rained on her. The names came so fast she hoped she could remember them.

She slid into the empty chair Chuck pulled out for her. chuck shifted his chair close enough for his leg to press hers beneath the table. He offered her a menu with one hand and stretched his other arm along the back of her chair, then he twined a lock of her hair around his finger and gave a gentle tug.

She shivered. Blair's nape had always been ultra-sensitive - a fact Chuck knew all too well. She glanced up to see Serena watching. She winked and snuggled closer to Dan.

The waitress arrived. "What can I get you?"

"A club soda, please." Blair said.

"Bushmills," Chuck replied, naming the Irish whiskey he'd preferred for as long as she'd known him.

Serena leaned forward. "No martini? You're not pregnant, are you?"

Alarm trickled through Blair as all eyes focused on her. "Not that I know of." She added a smile and hoped everyone would let the topic pass.

"Blair and I always wanted a large family. Maybe this time around well make it happen."

Chuck's words sent her heart crashing against her rib cage and brought her shocked gaze to his. A tender smile eased over his lips as he stroked her cheek with his knuckle. If she didn't know this was an act, she'd swear the love softening his eyes was real.

He'd wanted to make the reconciliation look believable, and he'd taken a giant step in that direction by laying their plan on the table for everyone to witness their success of failure.

And they would fail, she reminded herself. She would walk away - no matter how convincing Chuck might be in the role of the doting lover. Her sanity depended on escaping as soon as she'd fulfilled her end of their bargain.

Escaping before she broke.


	21. Chapter 20

A steady drumming beneath Blair's ear nagged her awake. She fought her way out of the sleepy fog and grappled for her bearings.

Basement construction.

But she didn't want to move from her snug spot. Warmth anchored her to the mattress. She opened her heavy eyelids and a male chest filled her vision. Her pulse jumped on a rush of adrenaline as she identified Chuck's bed, Chuck's arms around her and Chuck's erection pressing the thigh she'd hooked over her hips.

She shouldn't he here, but she must have fallen asleep after sex last night. Great sex. Exhausting I-cant-come-anymore sex. They kind they used to share back in the days when they couldn't get enough of each other.

Last nigh Chuck had used the rules of their reignited love to touch her at every opportunity. He'd played with her hair, stroked her arm or shoulders and sneaked caresses on her thighs beneath the table, knowing that as per their agreement, she couldn't object. Even though she'd been aware he was shamelessly taking advantage of her predicament, he'd still had her so turned on by the time they reached the house last night that they'd barley made it inside the front door before ripping off each other's clothing.

She'd promised herself she'd leave his bed as soon as her legs regained the strength to carry her down the hall to her room, her shower and her bed. And yet here she was, with her limbs entangled in her husband's and his scent clinging to her skin.

And she didn't want to leave. That was exactly why she must. But she didn't want to wake Chuck. Didn't want to face him. Not after the way he'd played the besotted, possessive lover so convincingly in front of his brother and coworkers that she'd almost believed he still loved her.

Good thing she knew his love had died a very long time ago. He'd proved that time and time again by choosing not to come home.

Trying to slow her quick breaths, she slowly separated herself from him. She was almost free when his arms tightened, yanking her back and erasing the narrow gap she'd created between them. Her heart lurched.

"Going somewhere?" he asked in a gruff, sexy voice that rumbled through her like a passing train.

"I need to get dressed before the construction crew arrives."

He inhaled deeply and stretched, pressing his torso more firmly against hers. His hand swept down her back and curved over bottom, stirring up a hunger that should have been more than satiated.

"Chuck, let me up."

He lifted slightly to look at the alarm clock, then sank back onto one elbow. "We have thirty minutes."

The husky intent in his voice made desire coalesce in her midsection. "I'm probably not...fertile anymore."

His palm skimmed upward over her hip, her waist, to cup her breast and thumb her nipple. A skewer of need pierced deeply and her flesh puckered. He nuzzled her temple. "You don't need to be fertile for me to make you feel good."

A pulse pounded deep inside her, and a craving for the satisfaction he could deliver swelled in her tummy. She fought it and shoved against his chest. She couldn't allow herself to become desperate for his attention ever again.

"Chuck, we're not supposed to do this unless the timing to conceive is right."

"There are no written rules for our agreement."

"Maybe there should be."

He held her captive with his passionate gaze and powerful arms for several more seconds as if debating changing her mind. Part of her wanted him to. And that part was the very one she had to ignore.

He relaxed his hold. "Run if you must."

She stiffened. "I'm not running. The builders will be here soon."

She scrambled from the bed and searched the floor, the bed, the room from something to cover her nakedness, but he'd removed her clothing downstairs. Short of dragging the sheet of his long, lean body or raiding his closet, she was out of luck.

She crossed her arms over her breasts and backed toward the hall. "I'm going to take a shower."

He sat up in bed. The sheets bunched around his naked hips, leaving his muscular chest and abs on display - a mesmerising view. "Tonight we'll move your stuff in here."

Panic knocked her breath from her lungs. "Chuck, I'm not sharing this room with you."

"When is the nursery furniture going to be delivered?"

She dampened her suddenly dry lips. In the excitement over her new workspace, she'd forgotten her purchase. "Monday."

"We'll have the guest room painted this weekend before tackling the basement and have it ready for NYC the time the furniture arrives." He tossed back the covers and rose in a rippling exhibition of firm, fit and aroused male.

Her fingers curled against the need to test his length and thickness. She blinked, tore her gaze from his morning erection, but she couldn't as easily banish the memory of how he'd felt in her hand, her mouth and her body mere hours ago. "What part of 'I am not sharing with you' did you not understand?"

"I heard you, but moving you in here is our only option."

"The third floor -"

"Isn't ready. The floors still need to be sanded and refinished." His gaze prowled from her head to her breasts, hips, toes and then returned at an even more leisurely pace.

Her skin prickled in response. She wanted to cover up. She wanted him to cover up. Concentrating when they were both naked was beyond her capabilities. "The builder-"

"Won't have time. I asked. He has to finish the basement by next Friday and return to his previously scheduled jobs."

She cradled her lower belly. "There's no rush. We don't ow if there is a baby yet."

"There's no need to drag our feet. If we convert the front room to a nursery, we can work on the third floor together and get it right - the way we did with the rest of the house."

His words called to the primitive, nest-building part of her. "I'll have time to work upstairs until fashion week."

"Actually I was hoping for your help planning a function for Bass Industries." His words sent her reeling. "Call Gretchen today and find out what she needs."

"Who's Gretchen?"

He strode into the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, "A friend."

Something in his tone made the hairs on her nape rise. She followed him and fought his gaze in the mirror.

"A girlfriend?"

His expression blanked and his hands flexed around his toothbrush. "She's the women who works with Serena in the PR department."

His avoidance of an answer told her what she needed to know. A swarm of something ugly and uncomfortable buzzed inside her. She wasn't jealous. She was just... Unsettled at the realisation that once she left, there would be another women in Chuck's life. In her baby's life. Somehow that just hadn't been considered when she'd agreed to this deal.

The mirror reflected their nude bodies back at her, making her feel even more exposed. "Does she know we're still married?"

"That's irrelevant."

"Is it?" Was this Gretchen person his lover?

"Blair, don't make a big deal out of nothing."

She had no right to protest. And why was she standing here arguing when she needed to get ready? "I'm going to shower."

He captured her hand, his palm warm against hers. "You can shower here. With me."

Her breath hitched. If she stayed, any showering would be done after they made love again. His erection made that clear. Shared showers - with her arms braced against the tile. Her legs splayed and Chuck taking her from behind, with his wet soapy hands caressing her breasts - used to be one of her favourite ways to start the day. But not today.

She yanked free. "Chuck, don't make this into something it's not."

"And that is?"

"A real reconciliation. I am not sharing your bedroom or your bathroom."

"That's what you say, but this-" he flicked a finger tip over an erect nipple "-this says you want to."

A arrow of desire hit the bull's-eye. Turning on her heel, she retreated to the only sanctuary she had in this house - the guest room - and closed the door behind her. She sagged against the panel.

She'd been jealous twice now.

Being possessive was not the way to keep her distance. For all intents and purposes Chuck was merely her sperm donor by orthodox means. Nothing more.

And she wanted it that way.

The other woman could have him.

"But not until after I'm finished with him," she groused as she marched toward the bathroom.

The idea of him climbing from another woman's bed and into her repulsed her. But that had absolutely nothing to do with her heart. Her only concern was her health, she assured herself. She didn't want Chuck giving her or her baby anything contagious.


	22. Chapter 21

Blair couldn't sleep. She stared at the shadows dancing on her bedroom ceiling Friday night and willed the tension to ease from her overwrought body, but her mind kept racing with thoughts of the baby, her business, Chuck.

Especially Chuck. And the way he made her feel. How he could still get to her after all this time and all the heartache she'd endured at his hands?

She rolled over and fluffed her pillow. The clock inched toward midnight, then past it. This was how the trouble had started last time. Her drinking had begun with a simple nighttime glass of wine to help her unwind while waiting for Chuck to come home. Then it had progressed to a second glass to help her get to sleep.

She wasn't going to fall into the same trap this time. If she couldn't sleep she would find something constructive to do. But what? Exercise? No. That would work her up, rather than wind her down. She could try some of the paint samples, on the basement walls.

Decision made, she rolled out of bed, pulled on a pair of shorts and a light camisole. She didn't bother with a bra. No one would see. Then she pulled her hair into a ponytail and eased open the door. Only the sounds of the city broke the silence. Good. Keeping an eye on the open door to Chuck's darkened bedroom, she crept down the stairs without turning on any lights, avoiding the third tread that squeaked. Being familiar with the house had its advantages.

When she reached the basement she sighed in relief at arriving undetected, then hustled to the supplies in the corner. She opened a stirred the paint while debating her options.

The sticky smacking sound of the paint rolling over the dry wall filled her with satisfaction, and the repetitive motion soothed her and allowed her mind to wander.

She steeped back to study the ten-foot square shed covered with French vanilla paint.

"Good colour," Chuck said behind her.

She jumped, almost dropping the roller, and turned. Chuck wore his boxer shorts and nothing else. "What are you doing up?"

He strolled closer, stepping from the shadowy area at the base of the stairs and into the brightly lit room that would become Blair's office. The basement was cool, and his nipples tightened into tiny points. "I could ask you the same."

She shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. I decided to put my surplus energy to work."

"Good idea." He crossed to the pile of painting supplies.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting a brush."

No, no, no. "Chuck, it's one o'clock in the morning. Go back to bed."

"I will if you will."

If she quit now and retreated to her room, she'd only go back to tossing and turning and worrying.

"Could you at least put on some clothes?" How would she concentrate with all that taut golden skin on display?

"Not tonight. I'll have to search for clothing I don't mind getting paint on."

"But-" memories hit her like a runaway trolley car. The two of them trying paint samples against their kitchen cabinets.

"I'll try the blue." He said dipping a small brush into a pot filled with a creamy blue hue.

She couldn't stop him from helping, but she didn't have to watch him. She turned her back on him, admiring the wall. Struggling to maintain her focus, she covered another small square of wall, and then Chuck parked the stepladder beside her and climbed, putting his bare, hair dusted muscular thighs and firm derrière directly in her line of vision.

She closed her eyes and took a fortifying breath. It was going to be a long night, and sleep...well, it wasn't going to make an appearance anytime soon.

Chuck flexed and stretched in her peripheral vision as he painted along the ceiling. She angled her body away from him, but the smooth ripple of his muscled shoulders and arms pulled her gaze back again and again. Arousal smouldered in her middle. How had they ever managed to get any work done before?

For almost an hour they painted side by side with only the hiss of the brush and the roller breaking the silence. It felt good, like the old days, when simply being in the same room had been enough to keep a smile on her face.

"What made you decide to have a baby now?" Chuck asked after they'd painted one wall with varying hues of cream, yellow and blue.

"BWD is successful. I have time to focus on other things."

"But the real reason is...?"

She should have known she couldn't fool him. "What makes you think there's more to my decision than that?"

"Is something wrong physically to make your clock start ticking with such urgency that you were willing to pick a stranger out of a catalog to father your baby?"

The concern in his voice touched her. "I'm in perfect health. I wouldn't have a child if I didn't plan to be around to care for it. But I'm tired of coming home to an empty house. I always wanted a family. Waiting for Mr. Right isn't working, and I refuse to settle for Mr. Right Now."

Wasn't that exactly what she'd agreed to with Chuck? The only difference was she knew he'd be a good father.

"I missed you after you left."

Surprise snatched her breath. She lowered the roller. "I'm surprised you even noticed I was gone."

His dark eyes locked on hers. "I noticed."

"You didn't come after me. You didn't even call." She winced. She hadn't meant to let that slip.

"Your note said, and I quote. 'Please don't contact me.' I had my pride. And frankly, I was angry."

"Why?"

"Because I expected you to stick it out, 'for better or worse,' and help me through the rough patch."

Guilt burned in her belly. She wanted to take him in her arms and assure him he hadn't been the problem. But she couldn't. "You left me first, Chuck. Even though we will still shared the same address, you abandoned me."

"I didn't have a choice. You did."

Yes, she'd had options. She could have stayed and lost herself. And then she'd have lost him, too. She'd decided it would be better to make a swift, clean break and quit him and the liquor cold turkey. "I had to go."

"Why?"

She shoved her roller across the wall, keeping her gaze fixed on the lines of paint. "Does it really matter? The past is over."

"What are you hiding, Blair?" he said an inch from her ear.

Her muscles snapped tight. If Chuck learned the truth and she wasn't already pregnant, he might refuse to give her the baby she desperately wanted. After her father had left her her mother had become an alcoholic. Blair could have easily become one. Their baby might carry that tendency in its genes. She was flawed and she didn't want Chuck to see her as damaged goods.

She stepped away from the heat of his bare torso under the guise of adding paint to her roller. "You're imagining things. I want to see a few more samples. If you're tired of painting you can head to bed,"

"I'm in for the long haul. I always was."

She looked at him and held her tongue. He wouldn't have stuck around if he'd discovered the truth about her.


	23. Chapter 22

As her agitation faded, the sticky sounds of paint application slowed from rapid sweeps to slow steady stabs. In the past ten minutes he could tell her will to make a decision on a colour was the only thing moving her exhausted arm.

He lowered his brush and studied the droop of her shoulders. "Let's call it a night."

She startled and turned. "We haven't picked a colour."

He put down his brush, crossed the room and pried the roller from her hand. "Let's have breakfast, catch a few hours and sleep on it."

A worry line pleated her brow. "But-"

"Blair, it 4:00 am. We're both starting to lose precision." Like him, she'd always been a perfectionist. She'd understood his spending hours over the details of a contract because she could lose herself the same way in design sketches.

"I guess so."

He brushed a lock of hair from her tired, violet eyes. "We have the entire weekend ahead of us. You will make a decision better with some sleep. I promise."

"A hot shower would be nice." She rolled her shoulders as if they were stiff, and his fingers flexed in anticipation. But while he'd love to fill a hot bath for her and join her there for a slippery massage, she wasn't ready for that step.

"Go for it. I'll clean up here and order breakfast."

She panned the painting supplies through eyes half open. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Go?"

He watched her climb the stairs, admiring her rounded bottom and smooth, pale legs. Blair didn't tan. She never had. She claimed her skin went from cream to lobster-red with no in between. But he didn't care. He'd always loved her ivory skin. Tracing the lines of her breasts, inner arms and belly with his tongue had been one of his favourite pastimes. His groin pulsed at the memory.

Tamping down his unsatisfied need, he quickly put away the painting supplies, then climbed the stairs and washed up. And called to order Blair's favourite breakfast.

Fate had a twisted sense of humour. He and Blair had traded places. In the past he'd been the one who couldn't quit until a project was finished. Blair had been the one to supply him with food and urge him to rest. Giving up had never been part of his nature. His fault-finding father had made sure Chuck always aimed for perfection. When he'd fallen short his father had relished pointing out every flaw.

Twenty minutes later the house smelled like cinnamon, melting butter and maple syrup, and Chuck had breakfast served and waiting on the coffee table when Blair entered the den. He noted that under her silky PJ's she had put on a bra. He'd enjoyed her beaded nipples in the cool basement almost as much as he'd enjoyed the peeks he'd caught her taking at him.

Knowing she was still attracted to him worked in his favour. He planned to agitate the chemistry between them until he achieved the desired reaction.

Her damp curly hair dragged across her shoulders giving her a sleepy, freshly scrubbed look that called to his tired brain cells like reveille. She inhaled. "Do I smell apple-cinnamon pancakes?" Her cheeks flushed,"and is that coffee?"

"Decaf. We need our sleep. You can have the real stuff after a nap.

She lifted the mug from the table and sipped, her eyes closing. "I almost fell asleep in the shower."

"It wouldn't be the first time." A smile tugged his lips. Until Blair he'd never met a women who could work so hard she'd fall asleep as soon as she stopped moving. He'd caught her dozing in the shower numerous times.

He handed her a plate. "Eat."

"Thanks." She took a bite of pancake. "Mom. Exactly the right amount of cinnamon."

Her lids grew heavier as the plate emptied. By the time she finished she was almost asleep sitting up. He took her dish from her and set it back on the coffee table beside his. She started to rise. He caught her hand. "Sit tight while I clear this to the kitchen."

"Chuck, you don't have to wait on me."

"Consider it my turn."

Her lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but then she nodded and sank deeper into the cushions, almost limp with fatigue. He rose, gathered the dishes and carried them to the kitchen. He took his time and then returned to the den. As he'd expected she'd fallen asleep sitting up. He smiled at the success of his strategy, then debated his next move. As soundly as Blair slept, he could carry her upstairs and tuck her in without waking her. But waking in his bed would put her on the defensive.

He sat beside her and eased her over. She sighed, tucked her hands beneath her cheek and settled her head in his lap. Just like the good ol' days. Now all he had to do was convince her to move down the hall to his room and the battle would be all but won.


	24. Chapter 23

Someone had put hot rocks on her eyelids, Blair decided as she struggled to cut her way through the fog clouding her brain. And she needed a new pillow. This one was hard. And hot. And the down tickled her nose.

Down? You're allergic to down. Move before your face swells like a red balloon.

She forced her lids open and blinked against the bright sunlight streaming through the windows, trying to clear her vision. Her 'pillow' resembled a man's thigh. chuck's thigh.

Like rocks gaining momentum in an avalanche, her heart bounded into a faster rhythm as the chain of events leading up to her ending up with her face in Chuck's lap replayed on her mental movie screen.

The hands on the antique clock across the room pointed to noon. She must have fallen asleep aft eating. This wasn't the first time she and Chuck had napped together on ethics sofa. But that was then. Now she had to be more careful. She knew how disastrous falling into a false sense of security could be, which was why she hadn't wanted to completely relax her guard and sleep in his bed.

Holding her breath and trying not to wake him, she eased upright and stood. His bare chest continued rising and falling. Chuck looked peaceful and relaxed tipped into the corner of the sofa with his dark lashes fanning his cheeks and the lines of stress smoothed away. The urge to comb her fingers through his lush strands of hair and brush them back almost overcame her caution.

She turned away from the temptation. A piece of paper on the end table beside his lamp had caught her eye. Her slowly waking brain identified a drawing on the back of an envelope. She lifted it and her breath caught.

Chuck had sketched out a baby's nursery complete with crib and mobile dangling above it, dresser and even the toy box. She'd shown him the photo she'd taken of the furniture with her cell phone, and he'd accurately depicted the details in excruciating detail.

There was no mistaking which room of the house he'd placed the furniture in. Her room. The French doors leading to the balcony gave it away.

Chuck had always been a talented artist, but had limited his drawings to architectural designs. Though most of his work was done on a computer he'd liked to pick up a pencil when working out the rough idea.

She stroked a finger over the curving runner of a rocking horse, and emotion clogged her throat. Looking at this, she could almost believe he wanted a baby as much as she did. A baby who might have his ink-dark hair and dark eyes. A precious little boy or girl that would give her the family they'd once planned to share.

A hollow ache swelled in her chest. She wanted Chuck's baby probably more now than she had the first time around. And then, anger filled the emptiness. Chuck's misplaced loyalty to his father's company had robbed them of that joy. It wasn't as if his selfish father would have even appreciated his sacrifice.

"What do you think?" he asked in a rough, groggy, sexier-than-sin voice.

Her pulse sprinted. She studied his beard-stubbled, sleepy-eyed face. It would be so easy to love him again.

But she couldn't.

"It's beautiful."

"We can do it, Blair - have our home and family the way we planned."

The strength of yearning for what he offered scared her so badly she grasped for mental and physical distance. "Why did you do it, Chuck?"

He eased upright in a slow flexing of muscles. "Do what?"

"Give me up."

He rose and towered over her, scowling. "We've been over this before."

"It pains me to see you working yourself to death. I understood when you stepped up after your dad. You wanted to prove you could. And you did. You did an amazing job, but you need to find something your passionate about. Like Victrola. You need to run the company for you, not for your fathers memory. Don't let it drown you."

His frown deepened. "It's not as simple as that."

"It could be."

"I have to run it the way the board votes. I never even finished collage."

"You could take the time to go back to school."

"I'm not a collage kid anymore." Shoulders tight, he headed toward the stairs.

"Denying your passion for architecture and Realestate won't bring your father back, Chuck." she called after him.

He flinched as if she'd hit him, then pivoted abruptly and charged back toward her, stopping only inches away. He glared down at her. "Why do you care?"

Good question. Why did his happiness matter when she planned to get as far away from him as possible as soon as she had what she wanted from him?

The wall blocking what she'd been trying to deny shattered like glass. She realised it mattered because she was still in love with her husband.

Mentally reeling, she tried to find a safe response. "I don't want my child raised by a bitter, unhappy parent."

"I'm not my father."

"I know your not."

I won't let you be, either.

But like Chuck had said, it wasn't as simple as wishing and making it so. Avoiding their parents mistakes would take constant vigilance.

"I'm going to finish off the paint samples." She left him because she was afraid he'd guess her secrets.


	25. Chapter 24

Blair stared up at Gretchen Mahoney's SoHo loft late Sunday morning. While she admired the funky boutiques and modern architecture, she had no desire to live anywhere south of Central Park. This was the type of place Serena would love to occupy. Instead, she and Dan stilled lived in the same Brooklyn loft Dan had grown up in.

Blair rang the bell and braced herself to face Chuck's 'friend' who had insisted on a Sunday morning meeting. Despite Blair's questions, Chuck had refused to share any more details about his relationship with the woman. Perhaps she was just a college.

The front door opened, revealing a gorgeous, willowy thirty-something brunette in four-inch heels and a designer suite. She looked Blair up and down with curiosity-filled eyes.

"You must be Chuck's wife. I'm Gretchen. Come in."

Blair's fingers tightened on the strap of her leather handbag as uneasiness swarmed down her spine and buzzed in the pit of her stomach like a hive of angry bees. "Yes, I'm Blair Bass."

"According to Chuck, you are amazing at planing theses little soiree's." Gretchen led Blair through to a seizable table decorated with an expensive looking bouquet.

"Please have a seat." Her hostess flicked a hand toward a chair - a ringless left hand. Not a wife of an acquaintance, then.

Was this women Chuck's lover? Blair sat and tried to focus on the job ahead, but not knowing exactly who Gretchen was or what she was to Chuck, other then an employee, made concentrating difficult.

She opened her planner. "Chuck didn't give me many details. What do you already have in place."

"Getting right to business, are we? No chitchat?

Blair blinked. "Sorry, I know that we are in a bit of a time bind."

"We are. We really need to impress with this event. Chuck was very specific that you would really know how to set the fit mood."

"Great so how about we get down to details and then we can fit that into a budget."

Perfectly arched eyebrows hiked. "Aren't you even a little curious about me? I confess I've been quite curious about you."

Blair didn't know whether to admire the women for her candour or hate her for being beautiful and poised.

"What exactly do you want to know?"

"I only have one question. Do you realise how badly you hurt Chuck when you left?"

Blair stiffened at the personal attack. "Perhaps you could just do an Internet search for some old Gossip Girl posts, if you want to here about my drama."

Radiating protectiveness rather then malice, Gretchen leaned back in her chair and crossed her endlessly long legs. "Did you ever consider the gossip he'd face after you disappeared? The explanations he'd have to make?"

The woman's audacity amazed Blair. But Gretchen did have a point. After Blair fled to Paris, she'd tried not to think about Chuck or the mess she'd left behind. She'd thrown herself into a new job, trying to exhaust herself each day so she could sleep at night - without the booze to help her relax. She'd firmly believed Chuck would be better off without her then with a wife who would become a liability, and she still adhered to that opinion.

"Chuck isn't the make-excuses type." Determined to get this meeting back on a business footing, she clicked her pen. "Do you have a theme picked out?"

"In this city reputation is everything. You damaged Chuck's" Gretchen insisted, ignoring Blair's question.

"Ms. Mahoney, could we please stick with organising the party? Unless the party was only a ruse to get me here and harass me. My personal life is really not relative to planning a business event for your employer."

"If you believe that, then you were gone from this city for way too long. In a competitive market, it's not just what you do, but who you know and who you've pleased or crossed in the past. But we'll play this your way. For now."

She slid an embossed invitation across the table. "We will be holding a silent auction. As you can see the proceeds from the event will go to a local women's shelter run by the Bass Industries Charity. The shelter in a place near and dear to my heart."

"It's a worthy cause."

"My second husband rescued me from there."

Surprised, Blair didn't know what to say. Gretchen didn't look like the typical victim of abuse Blair had in her head.

"Once I found the courage to quit hiding my bruises and admit I had a problem, I escaped from my first marriage. My husband found me at the shelter he worked for Bass Industries, he introduced me to Chuck and helped me get a job. Chuck was a very supportive boss. He's a wonderful man, so understanding. I would have married him in an instant - after my second husband died, that is. But Chuck could never be mine. That part of him still belongs to you."

Blair's heart stalled in and her hand froze, pen clutched above paper. "You're mistaken."

"There are a few things in life that I won't share, but men top the list."

Alarm skitter down Blair's spine. "Are you warning me off?"

"No. I'm advising you not to hurt Chuck again. He deserves better."

"Better meaning you?"

"Better meaning a women who is strong enough to honour her commitment to him and not to run when the going gets tough."

Anger and shame blended inside Blair. By running away without explanation, she'd left the door open for everyone to think badly of her. She'd though it better to let people assume the worst, rather then stay, become a drunk and confirm it. She hadn't considered her departure might cast Chuck in a negative light.

With hindsight she realised what she considered an act of selflessness could be construed as one of selfishness by others. But admitting that to her hostess would be like handing a possible rival ammunition.

"You're judging me based on something of which you have no knowledge."

"I'm not judging you at all, Blair. I'm merely letting you know I'll be watching. And if you hurt him again, you'll find have to deal with me."

After delivering her threat, Gretchen uncrossed her legs and sat forward, the enmity in her eyes changing to excitement. "Now, about the party, it's this Friday and we need New York's wealthiest feeling happy and generous. What do you suggest?"

Head reeling at the about-face, Blair mentally adjusted from defence to offence. She wanted to tell Gretchen to stuff her party right up her behind. But she couldn't. Chuck had asked her to do this and was counting on her.

But her confrontation with Gretchen made one thing very clear. She had two choices. One: give up on the baby and retreat before loving Chuck destroyed her. Two: she could fight her demons, charge ahead and try to win back her husband and the life they'd once dreamed of sharing.

From her perspective either choice could be potentially disastrous, but only one offered a reward.

She studied the women in front of her. If Gretchen had taken back her life and refused to be a victim, could Blair be any less courageous?

No. She'd kept her drinking issue under control since that turning point night, and she would continue to do so. Chuck would never have to know.

AN: Sorry for the delay. My headaches have been horrible. I'm off to have my eyes cheeked on Monday to see if new glasses will help. Hope you all continue to enjoy reading. Xo


	26. Chapter 25

Juggling her shopping bags, Blair climbed the front steps to the brownstone. Deciding to try to rebuild the relationship she'd once shared with Chuck had filled her with energy that not even two stressful hours of planning a short-notice event could take away. During her time with Gretchen, Blair had been forced to admit she wouldn't blame Chuck if he'd had an intimate relationship with the women after his wife had left him.

Gretchen was smart, creative and, apparently, wielded a lot of clout in the wealthy social circles. She was the type of women Blair would have been friends with.

Despite the competition, she was looking forward to Friday, to working with Gretchen and proving that she was back as the queen B of the upper east side.

Blair let herself in the front door and pocketed her keys. Splatters of red on the floor stopped her. A trail of rose petals led up the staircase.

Her heart pumped harder, making her almost light headed with excitement. The Chuck she'd fallen in love with had made another appearance. God, she'd missed him and missed having someone to play with, to talk to and plan with. With sudden clarity she realised that's why her attempts to find Mr. Right had failed. None of her dates had understood her the way Chuck had. He got her need to plan, understood her strive for success, because he shared the same need.

Each of them relished seeing something go from an abstract idea to a concert reality.

Despite everything, could the rose petals mean he still cared? Chuck had claimed he wanted her to stay, but he hadn't said he loved her.

Impatient to discover the answer, she dumped the shopping bags on the credenza and then followed the petal-strewn path. He body hummed with anticipation. What would she find at the top of those stairs?

Similar incidents from the past rushed forward crowding her brain with a smorgasbord of happy, sexy, tender and delicious memories of the claw-foot tub with bubbles and petals floating on the surface and Chuck waiting to be her personal bath attendant, a sexy new black cocktail dress with sinful matching lingerie and shoes and Chuck struggling with the bow tie of his tux as he exited the bathroom. Or maybe she'd find Chuck, naked and hungry for her in their bed.

Scratch that thought. The roses turned away from the master suite and led to the closed door of the guest room - her room. Was he waiting in her bed?

"Chuck?"

"In here."

She pushed open her door. The ruby-speckled path led to Chuck, seated by the French doors on the only piece of furniture remaining in the room. Even the rugs had been stripped from the polished hardwood floors. He rose and stepped aside, revealing a wooden rocking chair.

"You'll need this when the baby arrives." He curved his fingers over the high back and stroked the smooth wood." The man who made the baby furniture made this."

"Where is everything else?" She waved a hand to indicate the empty room.

"I had your clothes moved to our room and the bedroom suite upstairs."

A big step, but she was okay with that. When she'd discover the roses, she'd expected seduction arms sex. Hot, steamy sex. Instead, Chuck had given her something better - a concrete visual of the future within their grasp.

He thumped a knuckle on the hand-carved back of the rocker. "Try it out."

She crossed the room and sank into the chair. The wood, retaining the warmth of Chuck's body, embraced her. Her fingers stroked the glossy armrests. This was where shed sit and nurse their baby, where she'd rock her son or daughter to sleep. A rush of emotion squeezed her chest.

"It's beautiful, Chuck. I love it. Thank you."

His lips brushed the top of her head, then he circled and knelt in front of her. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Her breath caught. "I forgot all about the holiday. I'm sorry, I didn't get you anything."

"You're here where you belong. That's all I need." He pulled her from the chair and into his arms. His mouth teased her tenderly at first and then with intensifying passion that made her blood race.

Yes, she was where she belonged. And she would make their marriage work this time. A bond was only as strong as its weakest link, and she would not be that weak link. She would be strong for Chuck and for their baby.


	27. Chapter 26

Chuck felt Blair's capitulation clear down to his lips moved with his, her supple body melted against him, and her nails dug into his waist, pulling him closer.

Adrenaline shot through him. He'd won.

He wanted to celebrate his success in an act of making love that had nothing to do with making a baby. He swept her into his arms and carried her down the hall. Without breaking the kiss, he laid her in the centre of the bed and followed her down.

Her arms slid from his neck to his chest. She tugged at his shirt as if gear to be skin to skin with him - the way she used to. But something was different. There was an urgency to her frantic movements that went beyond hunger.

She hiked his shirttail, slid her hands beneath the fabric and went straight for his erogenous zones, tracing the underside of his arms, along his rib cage, the small of his back, his hip bones. He sucked in a sharp breath when her fingertips dipped into his waistband and hunger overrode his curiosity.

He shrugged off his shirt and then swept her sweater over her head. Her nipples showed clearly through the lace of her white bra. Propping himself on an elbow, he bent and captured one peachy tip. Her scent filled his lungs and the lace abraded his tongue. He raked her puckered flesh with his teeth, tugging gently the sucking. She rewarded him with a long soft 'Mmmm'.

She cradled his head with one hand. The other worked the button and zipper of his pants, and then she slid her hand inside his open fly, cupping, then stroking his erection. Desire pulsed through him, making him harder, hotter and impatient to sink into her wetness.

He rolled away from her talented hands, knelt and quickly stripped her skirt down her legs. He paused long enough to admire her white panties and then those and her bra had to go, leaving her in nothing but her black heels.

Like a cat, she rolled into a kneeling position and reached for him. He evaded her grasp long enough to stand by the side of the bed and shuck the remainder of his clothing under her hungry gaze her palms splayed on her thighs and her full breasts called for attention. Her eyes scrolled over him and she licked her lips. His pulse rate doubled.

Why had no other woman ever affected him as strongly as Blair did? And how the hell could Blair have walked away from this as if it didn't matter? As if he didn't matter.

"Make love to me, Chuck. I need you." Her husky whisper followed by ether fingers gliding down her torso and covering what he yearned for demolished his anger and any chance he had of taking it slow,

He craved the taste of her. Lunging forward, he feasted on her mouth, her neck, her breasts, belly and navel, then finally reached her nectar. No one tasted like Blair, and no one other than her had been able to satisfy his need.

He licked, sucked and nibbled her until her cries filled his ears and her spamming body arched off the bed. He wanted to be unselfish, to bring her to orgasm multiple times, but he had to be inside her. Her fingers curled around his erection, stocking him, then guiding him. He slid into her wet, welcoming warmth, and his muscles locked as he fought for control and savoured the feel of her.

Her internal muscles gripped him and her fingers, digging into his butt, urged him to move. He couldn't resist. He pumped harder and faster, her slickness easing his way.

Her hands rushed over his body, as if urgently mapping his muscles, then her nails skimmed his nipples. Jaw clenching bolts of pleasure shot through him. He tried to focus on her, on her soft gasps, on the jiggle of her full breasts with each hard thrust, on finding and caressing her centre.

He lost it, his climax exploded, sending shards of ecstasy through his body.

One corner of his mind registered Blair's cries as she joined him, and along with repletion, the sense of coming home, of finally being where he belonged, overwhelmed him.

Lungs bellowing, he eased down beside her. Not knowing the reason she'd left the first time meant he couldn't prevent her leaving again. The lack of control unsettled him.

Then he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Blair shifted, hooking her thigh over his and her arm over his torso. He held her close, savouring the melding of their damp bodies. He should have gotten over her, any self respecting man would have. And he had tried. But Blair was the only person he'd ever known who'd understood him.

Her fingers walked a path up his abdomen to his chest. She drew a shape over his left pectoral. A heart. Another blast from the past. They used to write messages on each other's skin.

"I love you, Chuck. I always have."

Her breathless deceleration sent his heart slamming into his ribs beneath her hand. He turned his head, met her gaze and saw her words reflected in her eyes. He wanted to believe her, but doubts nagged at him. "Then why did you leave?"

Tension invaded her muscles and her fist clenched on his chest. Her eyes turned evasive, long lashes descending to shield her thoughts. "I didn't want to. But I had to. Please, please believe I thought my getting out of your life was the best thing for everyone concerned."

He couldn't blindly believe without facts. Not this time. "What happened, Blair?"

She pulled away, tugging the edge of the comforter with her as she climbed from the bed. "I - I had to go, okay? That's all I can say."

"Was there someone else?" He voiced the words that had been lurking in his subconscious - words he'd been trying to ignore.

Her shock appeared genuine. "No. Oh, no. Never. I loved you. Only you, Chuck."

He rose and faced her across the mattress. "I need more of an explanation than that."

She bit her lip. "You'll have to take my word for it. I love you, and I'll love our baby...if there is one."

"And if there isn't?"

"You said yourself we'd keep trying. I want to be with you, Chuck. I want everything we once planned. The family, the house, the dog. All of it. And I want it with you. But you have to trust me."

Trust her. She had no idea how much she was asking.

He counted on her before and she'd let him down, did he dare risk making the same mistake twice.


	28. Chapter 27

High on satisfaction, Blair hummed a tune as she collected the paperwork after the auction, Friday night.

The week with Chuck had been just short of heavenly. The nursery was perfect with its new furniture and paint. Her basement design studio was finished and beautiful. And life with Chuck...

Blair wanted to do a happy dance. Their relationship was almost back to where it had been before. He hadn't said he loved her yet, but there had been tenderness in his eyes and in every gesture. That had to mean something.

She lifted a stack of folders, noting that as edge pressed against her that her breasts were tender. Her pulse quickened. Was she pregnant? Or was the soreness a symptom of her monthly visitor, which was due any day now? Was it too soon to do a test?

Only a dozen or so of the expensively dressed and perfumed guests lingered, most of whom had spilled out the open doors into the conservatory. A massive flower arrangement on top of the grand piano partially obscured Blair's view.

"You simply must tell me how you managed such a lovely event at the last minute," a familiar voice said, stopping Blair's actions.

Lilly was here. Blair grimaced. She hadn't spoken to Lilly since she had left. She debated staying hidden, but sulking behind furniture to avoid unpleasant people wasn't her way. Not anymore.

The expensive heels moved in her direction, taking the decision out of her hands. "Good evening, Lilly."

Her mother-in-law's shocked eyes fixed on Blair like laser beams. "I should have known, Serena has never been much of a party planner."

"Well Serena, Gretchen and I organised the event together."

"I assume this means that you and my son have reconciled?" Lilly questioned with a raise of her eyebrow.

Serena gave her a sympathetic glance. "Yes, we have been working on our relationship."

Lilly lifted her chin, "It's about time, Blair. Tell my son I would love to see him and yourself at sunday brunch." With that she turned on her heel and stalked away.

Blair was shocked. She'd expected a lecture maybe even some snobbery. But she wasn't going to waist time thinking about it. She didn't want to dampen her mood.

Blair said her goodbye's and rushed for the waiting town car. Eager to get home to Chuck.

Xoxo

It was just after one on the morning and she should be exhausted, but she was still too keyed up to sleep.

She couldn't help feeling a teensy bit defaulted. She wanted to share her excitement with Chuck, but the lights had been off upstairs when she'd pulled up fifteen minutes ago, which meant Chuck was probably asleep. But mostly, she'd wanted to tell him how well the even that gone.

She crossed to the laundry room, stripped off her dress and dropped in into the hamper for dry cleaning. Rolling her tense shoulders, she returned to the kitchen and jerked to a stop. Chuck waited with one hip parked against the counter. He wore nothing but his boxes.

She took in his gorgeous physique nod her mouth watered. "Did I wake you?"

His eyes raked her nakedness. "Trust me, even if you had, the view is well worth the trip downstairs. I was waiting for you. I wanted to hear about your night'"

She grinned. "The event went well. We raised far more then we expected."

"That's great, but I have a way to make tonight even better."

The glint in his eyes made her heart trip. "Care to elaborate."

"Come upstairs and find out." He extended his hand.

Desire coiled inside her belly as she laid her palm across his. Chuck jerked her close. Their bodies slapped together. He pressed a quick hard kiss on her lips and then drew back. Looking her up and down, hunger evident in his eyes and in the bulge rising in his briefs, he shook his head as if denying himself and then led her upstairs.

"Chuck, thank you for tonight," she said as she climbed. "I really enjoyed being apart of our world again."

"You're welcome."

When she reached the landing she heard water running. In the bedroom she smelled her favourite bath salts. And then in the bathroom, she spotted the steaming claw foot tub.

Chuck's hands landed on her shoulders. He pulled her back flush against his front. "Just as I expected. Your muscles are knotted. Nights on the town always jazzed you up before. I thought you might need to unwind. Remover how we used to end most party nights in here?"

The memories of sexy shared baths combined with his teeth grazing the curve of her shoulder made her shiver. "Yes. Does that mean you're going to join me?"

She felt him smile against her neck. "Not this time. You soak and give me a replay of the night. I'll play masseur and enjoy the view."

She tested the water and then climbed into the tub. Chuck lathered his hands and then sat on a vanity stool he'd placed behind her head. He gently dug his thumbs into her tense neck muscles, rubbing out the Knicks until she sighed.

"That feels wonderful."

"Relax." He pressed a kiss on her ear and kneaded her shoulders. "I hope tonight is just the beginning of you confidently heading back into the social scene, but even if it takes a while, that's okay. There's nothing we can't handle together."

She knew he still wondered why she'd run. She'd caught him watching her with question in his eyes several times. She yearned to confess. But she said nothing. He'd once claimed he'd stand by her, and he would because he was an honourable guy. But he'd lose respect for her if he learned the truth. She couldn't bear watching his love die again. The first time had nearly destroyed her.


	29. Chapter 28

Chuck found himself sketching on his blotter again Monday afternoon - this time a miniature version of the brownstone complete with a tower turret - a playhouse for his and Blair's children.

Children. It had only been a few weeks. He didn't even know if she was pregnant yet and he was already thinking in multiples. He found her confident, ambitious persona far sexier than her younger, eager to please version had been.

He raked a hand over his jaw and tried to refocus on the columns of numbers in front of him, but Bass Industries finances couldn't hold his attention.

Silence Blair's return he'd had a hard time maintaining his interest in his work. His mind flicked back to Friday night. When he'd heard Blair come home, he hadn't been able to wait for her to come upstairs. He'd wanted to share her enthusiasm - or disappointment. The bath he'd run for her had ended with a hot make out session followed by leftover hors d'oeuvres eaten in bed while she told him about the event.

The fire of excitement in her eyes while she'd talked had reminded him of the women he'd fallen in love with so long ago and of what he'd stripped from her the first time around. No wonder she'd left him.

Like him, Blair needed to feel pride in her accomplishments. By making her a homebody, he'd limited her outlets.

His door burst open and his brother stormed in. "Have you seen this?"

Eric held a newspaper opened to the society, aka gossip, page.

"I don't read that crap. I'm surprised you do."

"Serena showed me. You might reconsider reading it since you, your wife and Bass Industries are mentioned. "

Chuck's senses went on red alert. "Judging by your tone, I take it the article isn't a positive recap of Friday nights auction."

"Far from it."

Chuck took the paper and skimmed the page looking for what had sent Eric into orbit.

Realestate Top Gun shoots Blanks?

The headline hit him like a sucker punch. He gritted his teeth and read on.

What's a thirty-something women to do when her biological clock starts ticking and she can't find suitable daddy material? Blair Waldorf Bass, wife of Charles Bass, CEO of Bass Industries, reportedly took matters into her own hands recently and visited a lock sperm bank. Rumour has it she petitioned for a deposit made by her estranged husband, but that disposition was destroyed. Now she and hubby claim to be reconciling. Meanwhile she is relaunching her clothing line out of his upper east side basement.  
Is this a case of home-is-where-the-heart-is or just a form of direct deposit? If Bass' CEO is faking his marriage, what else is he faking? Stay tuned. But I wouldn't suggest a custom gown from Blair Waldorf Designs, if the date of your event is nine months from now, since Mr. And Mrs. Bass have already purchased nursery furniture.

Chuck wanted to rip the gossip rag to shreds. But that wouldn't solve the problem. "Blair doesn't need this when she's working so hard."

"Is it true? She tried to get your sperm bank deposit?"

"That is nobody's business but ours, Eric."

"It's my business if it affects Bass Industries. And that column slanders us, too."

"Who in the hell would make a personal attack like this?"

"I only know one person who stands to gain if you look incompetent, and he happens to fight dirty."

Chuck didn't need a genius IQ to follow Eric's line of thought. "Jack? But why target Blair."

"Because she's your weak spot. You didn't answer my question. Is your reconciliation a sham? Is she back just for a kid?"

He owed his brother the truth. "Our reunion started out that way when the clinic contacted me about Blair requesting my sample. That's why I asked about the divorce papers, and then I subsequently found out we were still married. Blair agreed to move back in if I'd father her child. But our marriage isn't a pretence anymore."

Eric cursed and strode to the window. "How many people knew about the stupid sperm bank dare?"

"Only family, Nate and some other guys from school, but they made a deposit too. Outing me would also bring their part in the stupid dare to light." Chuck tapped his pen on his blotter. "If we have a leak in the office, the perpetrator could have gotten the info from my office. The sperm bank faxed forms to me here. I kept copies just in case something went wrong."

Eric cursed. "There is no 'if' Jack clearly has someone feeding him information."

"If it is Jack." Chuck didn't know why Blair had left him the first time. Would this embarrassment be enough to send her running again? He had to fix this before that happened. But how? "I don't want Blair to find out about this."

Eric pivoted, his mouth agape. "It's a paper with a circulation of tens of thousands. You can't buy and burn every copy or keep people who've already read the column from talking."

"I need to get Blair out of town until the scandal blows over. No. Scratch that. She'll want to be here to take calls and make client appointments for BWD."

"You could try to get the rag to print a retraction."

Chuck scanned the damning words again. They didn't sound any better the second time. "Technically, nothing they've printed in untrue."

The intercom on his desk buzzed. "A reporter from the New York Journal is on line one," his receptionist said. "He wants to ask about a sperm bank?"

Reporters. Damn. "Hold all my calls. And don't talk to any reporters. I'm going out."

"Now?" Eric asked.

Chuck scrubbed his knotting neck muscles and rose. "I'm going to talk to Jack. If I leave now he may still be in the Boston office."

"What good will talking to that bastard do?"

"I don't know, but I have to do something. Or I might lose Blair again."

...

"Lay off my wife," Chuck growled at Jack Bass across the man's wide desk.

The older man laid down the paper Chuck had thrust at him, leaned back in his massive leather chair and cracked an amused smile.

"Aah. Nephew. What makes you think I have anything to do with this?"

"Because you are the only person who would go so low as to target my family to put yourself back on top."

Chuck studied the man's heavily lined face and steady dark eyes and found no evidence that Jack would crack.

"So what if I did let slip about my nephews escapades over drinks with a reporter." Jack quipped.

"This is the last straw Jack. The only reason I don't have you completely removed from the Bass Industries board is because your family. But as you already have a history I think it would be best if you headed back to the Australia office."

He wasn't about to risk losing his wife just when he'd gotten her back.

"You know the board would have to vote and you have no proof that I spoke to a reporter."

"You knew about the dare. You want to make me look incompetent to the board, and your driver - who is employed by Bass Industries - took you to meet the reporter last Sunday afternoon. How much more proof do I need?" He enjoyed watching His uncle flinch. "Either you call and retract your statements and apologise to Blair or I go straight to the board and you lose everything."

"Don't be ridiculous, Nephew. I'm the only family you have."

"No. Blair is my family. And the fact that you and I are related brings me nothing but carefully before you make you choice Uncle." Ignoring Jack's gaping look, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the house. He needed his wife. Only Blair's kisses could heal the wound of dealing with family who would stab him in the back.


	30. Chapter 29

AN: For some reason when I posted the last chapter the ending was cut off. I have reloaded it now. So you might want to go back and read the last paragraph before continuing with this one.

She wasn't pregnant.

Blair's knees buckled under the weight of disappointment. She sank into the new rocking chair and pushed off with her toe. But the repetitive back and forth motion didn't smooth her. She'd come so close to having everything she'd once dreamed of with Chuck.

She wanted him here, wanted his arms around her and his assurance that they could try again. Her need for him was stupid really. She was used to standing on her own feet. But she needed a sympathetic shoulder, and he was the only one who would understand and be as disappointed as she was over the negative pregnancy test.

She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialled his private work number. "Charles Bass's office, Joan speaking. How may I help you?"

"Joan, it's Blair. I need to talk to Chuck."

"Hello, Ms Bass. Mr Bass is out. I'm not sure if he'll be back today. May I take a message?"

This wasn't news he needed to hear secondhand. "No. I'll call his cell."

She disconnected and dialled his cell. No answer. She tried again and still received no response. She cheeked the new teddybear clock on the wall. Almost five. He should be home soon.

Until then, she would hang tight and wait. The flashback to the past and waiting for Chuck to come home kinked her muscles. But this time was different. She wouldn't turn to the bottle.

She was stronger now. She had too much to lose. And she'd learned her lesson.

Hadn't she?

...

Eight o'clock. Chuck was late.

Blair stared at the design papers spread to on the counter in front of her. She'd needed a way to deal with her agitation - and outlet other then drinking.

Chuck hadn't called and his cell phone dumped straight to voice mail. The hospitals had no reports of anyone matching his description being brought in. She knew. She'd called all the local emergency rooms. Twice. Her stomach burned from nerves.

She had to admit Chuck's well-stocked liquor cabinet was tempting. Drinking herself into oblivion and not having to worry would certainly be easier then concocting new designs and pacing the floor. But she resisted.

She heard a key turn in the front door and her pulse jumped like a runner hearing the starters pistol. She raced down the hall and reached the foyer as Chuck entered. Anger combined with worry and grief tangled inside her. She wanted to scream at him for scaring her and throw herself into his arms and cry in relief because he was okay.

"Where have you been?"

He frowned at her frantic tone. "Has anyone called?"

She stared at him in disbelief. "No. Not even you. You're hours late. Answer my question, Chuck."

Silently he withdrew a folded newspaper from his briefcase. Confused, she took it from him. He pointed at the headline halfway down the page.

Realestate Top Gun Shoots Blanks?

Uneasiness swirled through her like a cold, damp fog. Her heart inched up her throat as she read the rest of the article. Someone had used her to attack Chuck and Bass Industries. Chuck had said reputation was everything, and this article wasn't helping his.

"Who did this?"

He wiped a hand over his face. Only then did she notice his tightly clenched jaw and the lines of stress bracketing his mouth. "I spent the afternoon trying to find out."

"Who?"

"My uncle Jack."

Reeling, Blair staggered into the den and collapsed on the sofa.

"I'm sorry, Blair. Jack has always been difficult, but I didn't think he would stoop this low."

Feeling sick to her stomach, Blair gulped. She'd never imagined someone would be so ruthless. Blair rose and paced to the window. She loved Chuck, but the sperm bank wasn't the most appalling part of her past. She couldn't risk someone digging up the sordid details and hurting Chuck even more. She had no choice. To take the heat off him and Bass Industries, she was going to have to leave.

"I can't live in a glass house,Chuck."

"Jack won't cause us anymore trouble."

"You can't know that." Her heart ached. She blinked and swallowed the tears burning her eyes and throat. "I'm going back to Paris."

"Good idea. Take a week. By the time you return this will have blown over."

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and gathered her courage. "I'm not coming back."

He flinched. "What about the baby? What about us?"

She'd been devastated just hours ago, but maybe it was a blessing that she wasn't pregnant. "I did a test today it was negative. I've been trying to call you all afternoon to tell you."

The pain and disappointment on his face wrenched her. "We'll try again."

"I won't raise a family in a verbal war zone. I've been there, Chuck and I always swore I'd never do that to any child of mine. We need to end this - end us."

This time she'd been strong enough to resist the lure of the bar. Next time she might not have the strength. And what would having a drunk wife do for Chuck's reputation? "I'll have my attorney contact yours."

Chuck caught her upper arms. The warmth of his hands penetrated her clothing, but did nothing to warm the cold knot forming inside her. She wanted him to hug her and tell her it would be all right. But she knew it wouldn't. "That's it? You're just going to quit?"

"It's better this way. Trust me." A sob welled up inside her. She mashed her lips together to hold it in. It was because she loved him that she had to let him go.

"Trust you? Apparently, that's the lat thing I should do. At first sign of trouble you run."

Blair flinched, but she didn't explain. Chuck might not enjoy working for Bass Industries as much as he had running Victrola and The Empire, but the CEO position was the one he'd chosen, and she had to support him in any way she could. And the best way to help him was to get far away and completely disassociate from him. With her history, having her around would always be a time bomb waiting to explode and damage his credibility and reputation.

"I'm sorry, Chuck." She brushed past him and raced up the stairs, hoping to reach their room -his room - before her tears started falling. She closed and locked the door, then frantically threw the necessities into her suitcase.

When she could stall no longer, she lugged her bags downstairs. Chuck stood stiffly in the den, hands in his pockets, staring out the window into the darkness.

Emotion choked her. She couldn't have spoken even if she'd known what today, and she didn't.

How do you tell a man you loved him too much to stay?

You didn't.

"I'll be at my mothers penthouse in the city while I organise my move. I'll send for the rest of my things."

And then, for the second time, she walked away from the only man she'd ever love.


	31. Chapter 30

"Aren't you joining us for family dinner at mom's?" Eric asked from the doorway of Chuck's office Friday evening.

Chuck looked up from the numbers on his screen - numbers he hadn't really been seeing. His mind had been elsewhere. "No."

Eric entered and closed the door. "It's been four days since Blair left, Chuck. You have to pull yourself out of this funk."

"Your a fine one to talk. You look like hell."

Eric held up his hands. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. And forget about me. I'll be fine once we are done with this damage control and catch the snitch who's been blabbing to Jack. Serena and I are heading out in about five minutes if you change your mind and want to ride with us."

Chuck,s head wasn't into dinner tonight. "I won't."

"Your loss." Eric reached for the doorknob.

"Eric, I can't do this anymore."

Frowning, Eric paused. "Do what?"

"Work under my fathers shadow."

"You need a vacation? Fine we can handle things here for a while."

"It's more than that. I was thinking a drastic change up."

"Chuck your not thinking straight. You'll get over Blair and - "

"That's just it. I am thinking straight for the first time in a long time. And if I didn't get over Blair in seven years, then I never will. She said something before she left about living in a glass houses. She's right. Bass Industries requires us to live our lives on the edge of uptight and boredom to uphold some quality of reputation because of the clients we aim at."

"That's because our clients stand to lose a lot of money if we do something that violates their moral code."

"We'll maybe it's time for some new clients. Because in the end money talks. Where paying good money for theses proprieties, why should they care once we bought it. People what the decadents and lavish life style of the rich and famous not stuffy and formal."

"What are your talking about?"

"I spend all my time trying to please the board members and I hate it. There is so much money to be made in clubs and restaurants. Why are we waisting time worrying about every little thing we do, when we could be using it to our advantage?"

"I can see your point but where is this coming from."

"Blair, she knows me so well...because she loves me. And I love her."

The realisation had hit him like a runaway trolley car when he'd awoken alone in bed this morning. He missed Blair. Her smile, her energy. The way she encouraged him to follow his dreams and loved him even when he didn't. Together they made amazing things happen. Without her he just went through the motions - living without living at all.

"I actually don't see a reason why we can't looking into some new property investments. But don't go making some big change right now when your so upset."

Chuck shook his head. "Blair is right. Working under these constrains wont make my father proud of me or bring him back. I don't want to pretend to enjoy this anymore. It's time to do in my way."

"Chuck, just don't do anything to rash."

"This isn't a rash decision. It's all I've thought about since she left." Chuck turned off his computer and rose with a sense of satisfaction swelling in his chest, as if he'd finally gotten something right after he'd been working on it for a very long time. And he had. He'd finally gotten his priorities straight.

"I refuse to give strangers the right to decide how I live my life. And if the board doesn't like it they can have my resignation."

"You're out of your mind."

"No, Eric, I'm finally in my right mind. And I have Blair to thank for that." He brushed by his brother on the way out the door.

"Where are you going?" Eric called after him.

"I'm going to get my wife."


	32. Chapter 31

Blair grimaced as she she looked around her mothers living room, crowded with her belongings and boxes.

Monday, when she had her head together, she'd organise to have it all shipped. But tis week...she just hadn't been able to handle the idea of it being over. Not yet.

With that decided, she turned back to the designs in front of her. When the elevator door bell rang seconds later, Blair glanced at her watch. Eight?

Who would drop by unannounced at this time of night?

Blair headed for the elevator to find Chuck standing in the entryway. Heart pounding she staggered back a step. Why was he here?

She didn't want to see him she wasn't ready. Panic set in. Loving him and knowing she couldn't have him hurt more than she could have imagined. But leaving had been for his own good. She had to remember that.

She drank in the sight of him with his dark hair tousled and five o'clock shadow darkening his jaw. H looked tired. His tie hung askew and the top button of his white shirt gaped open as did the coat of his black designer suite.

"What are you doing here?"

"I have to talk to sense into you."

"Sense? Into me?"

"You can't leave me, Blair. I love you."

She gasped. Those where the words she'd longed to hear. But it was too late.

"We're good together, Blair. No one understands me the way you do. No one loves me the way you do." He moved forward and she automatically stepped back. Dumb move. She should have pushed him back into the elevator.

"Chuck-"

He brushed her cheek with his fingertips and erased whatever protest she'd meant to make. "You love me. Admit it."

She couldn't deny it. "It's not that simple."

How could she make him understand? She turned and led him into the living room.

With a sinking feeling of doom, she realised she'd have to tell him the truth - all of it - and watch his love die. "It was never you, Chuck. It was about me."

He took her hands and pulled her down on the sofa beside him. "Explain."

The love and patience in his eyes tore her apart, but that love wouldn't last long when he learned the truth.

Just do it. Spit it out like ripping of a bandage. Fast.

"My drinking started innocently enough. I'd open a bottle of wine to share with you when you got home. Then you'd be late. I'd start thinking about where you were, who you were with. Maybe you found someone better. Maybe that was why you didn't want to tie yourself to me with a baby."

"Blair, from the first time we kissed there was never another woman. I was working."

"But you weren't coming home."

He wiped his face. Regret filled his eyes. "The adjustment to the job wasn't going well. I felt as if I was failing and letting the team down. I was exhausted from trying to clean up the mess my father had left behind and when I came home and you wanted to make love... Sometimes I was so exhausted I couldn't. I knew the rejections hurt you, and I hated the idea of failing at home too, so I slept at the office."

With hindsight, what he said made perfect sense. "I wish you'd told me."

"I didn't want to burden you."

"One day I woke up and there were two empty wine bottles on the floor. I didn't even remember opening the second one. I realised I had a problem. So I ran. I went to my father in Paris and he helped me find a therapist.

"You should have come to me."

"Why? S you could lose respect for me because I was weak? S I could watch your love die?"

"Do you think you're an alcoholic?"

She searched his face, looking for condemnation, and found none. "I don't know, Chuck. I've talked to several counsellors. They see to think that because my drinking only lasted a couple of months and I stopped voluntarily that maybe I'm not. I've worked very hard to develop healthy coping skills for my stress. I can't take a chance on maybe, so I err on the side of caution."

"That's why you don't drink."

She nodded. "I don't want to trigger whatever it is that makes people fall into a downward spiral."

"I think your too strong to fall."

"Even strong people falter."

He brushed his fingertips over her cheek. "What does that have to do with us not being together for the next fifty years?"

Her love for him swelled inside her. "Chuck, I would never want to force someone I love to become an enabler. You're better off without me. Not only am I a risk, but that's makes my DNA contaminated. Our children could carry the tendency to be alcoholics."

"Blair, if only perfect people had children, the population would cease to exist. We'll teach our children those healthy coping skills you mentioned. I love you, and I want you in my life."

Hope fizzed inside her, but she burst the bubble. "I can't live with the idea of others always watching and waiting to pounce on my weakness and use it against you or Bass Industries."

"You won't have to. I'm changing everything about the way we handle business and if the board doesn't like it then I'll quit."

Surprise stole her breath. "Why?"

"You told me once that if I couldn't be happy with myself, then I could never be happy with anyone else. And you were right. I finally understand what that means. I was trying to live the life my father had mapped out for me, instead of the one I wanted for myself - the one we planed with each other."

"I'm glad you deserve to be happy."

"There's only one thing that would make me happier."

"What?"

"Come home with me. We're a good team. And I will be there for you this time if you'll give me the chance. I love you, Blair. Let me spend the rest of my life proving that."

"I love you, too. And there's nothing I'd like more than to spend the rest of our lives together."

...


	33. Epilogue

Epilogue

One year later...

Blair eased herself into the rocking chair, taking care not to jostle the sleeping baby in her arms.

The angelic new born, baby girl was her absolute pride and joy. She'd never thought she would love anyone more then she loved Chuck. That was until the doctor had placed her daughter into her arms moments after her birth. The memory of Chuck's smile and happy tears was one she would hold in her heart until the day she died.

Chuck had held his daughter for the first time like she was the most precious of china. His eyes gleamed as he proclaimed "Elizabeth Audrey Bass. Welcome to your family."

A rustle by the door brought her back from her happy place. "Good evening Mrs. Bass." Chuck whispered, leaning from the door frame.

Blair smiled, noting that the teddybear clock read five thirty on the dot. "Welcome home, daddy."

Chuck came to stand by her side, placing a soft kiss on each of their foreheads. "I wanted to talk to you about something, downstairs."

Blair nodded. She gently rose and placed the baby in the crib, switching on the monitor before following Chuck down the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs was Chuck turned and bent to his knee. "Blair, I know that technically we are still married. But I need you to know that this is forever. So. Blair will you marry me? Again, forever this time."

Blair stood gaping. "Yes. Yes, I will marry you again."

AN: I know that was a sappy ending, but what is the point of a story if they don't live happily ever after. I'm considering a sequel to this story, however I am first going to finish my story that has been on hiatus 'When it counts'.

I want to thank you all for your lovely kind hearted reviews. You guys make me feel so special. I hope you will continue to read my stories and I hope to read some of yours.

Xoxo


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